


Dead Man Walking

by Astrodragons (CelestialKnight)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Multi, Shiki AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialKnight/pseuds/Astrodragons
Summary: You never realize how much you miss someone until they're gone.





	1. Last Breath

The planet was stunning, Pidge thought. It resonated with her, was close to her element, similar to Olkarion, but unlike Olkarion, it wasn’t dying. It wasn’t ruled by the Galra. No, far from that in fact. It was why they were visiting this planet of moonlight flowers and darkness. Allura wanted to secure an alliance with the people who were able to keep the Galra far away from their home.

The small planet was named Gartanor. Not much was known about the people, not even Coran or Allura knew much. Apparently it had just emerged around ten thousand years ago. They were told to be on guard though. Not knowing customs of the planet, they could accidentally start a war with one wrong move, or enter a marriage contract. Neither were favourable for the team. Coran told them to be on their best behaviour. Pidge noted with a small snicket as he eyed Lance closely. Lance in response made an indignant noise and the two were off to their typical relationship behaviour. It kind of reminded her of her father. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her father. Her brother and father. She knew Matt was okay… that’s all she needed to be able to keep moving. _If Matt is okay, so is Dad_.

They landed the castleship and found themselves greeted by humanoid figures. Pidge always found it odd that there were aliens that looked strangely human, like the Alteans or now in this case the Gartos. Though it really shouldn’t be surprising. Alien planets with a similar makeup to Earth could potentially have alien species similar to humans. Obviously there would be differences, such as the Alteans ears and chameleon-like abilities or the Gartos’ glowing eyes and fangs.

They awaited by the foot of the castle, unwilling to approach, seeming as if they physically could not. Basic courtesy taught Princess Allura to make her way towards the people she was trying to gain an alliance from, to make herself seem humble. Not knowing much on diplomatic affairs, Pidge followed. She didn’t want to fumble and make an embarrassment of herself.

The leader of the Gartos seemed to be a young child, with eyes as dark as night and hair as deep blue as the ocean. They called themselves Regalia. Among the crowd, there were some non-humanoid figures, but kept the general appearance of the Gartos, glowing eyes and fangs. Pidge felt herself a little off put by it all, really.

She looked at her fellows, Allura and Coran stood proudly before them all, ready to start the diplomatic discussions, as if they had done this a thousand times before. Right to their side was Shiro, as ready as ever to overhear to the affair and potentially involve himself in it all. Next to Shiro was Keith. Behind the two was Lance, looking over the affair with a tinge of boredom in his eyes. She found herself next to Lance. She tried to resist the idea of Lance hoisting her up on his shoulders just to be able to see what exactly was going on. She wasn’t ready to submit to that level just yet, even if Lance was her boyfriend. There was a line, and if she crossed that line there would be no going back. Hunk hid behind them. He was off-put by the creepy atmosphere the most. Something about reminding him of a horror movie and how he didn’t want to be _that person_ and be the first to die. Personally she found it a little funny. It did feel a bit like a horror movie, but they weren’t going to die, not here. They were Paladins of Voltron, and here they were welcome.

Allura smiled as she held herself tall. She always seemed tall and imposing. Her appearance was deceiving and Pidge envied her a little bit. Pidge was what? 22 and 5’3? Constantly mistaken for a 12 year old—but she loved getting in free for events so really she was in an internal conflict—and the butt of short jokes. Mainly Lance’s short jokes. Still, she got to make team baby jokes to Lance so it was a win-win. Shiro tried to get Lance to lay off a bit, but really that’s how they were. They were both big teases.

“It’s an honour to finally meet the people who have been able to face off Zarkon for so long.” She sounded rather proud and prideful. There was a tinge of hope in her voice, a hope for herself.

“You flatter me Princess, truly.” Regalia touched their cheek, but there was no flush. “We must say it’s an honour to finally meet the legendary Voltron. A sign of hope that this reign of terror may finally end.” The others around them nodded sagely to the young leader’s words.

“We welcome you all into the Castle of Lions. The ceremony displaying our alliance shall proceed after the party.” Regalia and the others smiled brightly. Something felt wrong in the pit of Pidge’s stomach. The way some of the other Gartos were smiling left a bad aftertaste in her mouth. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

“We thank you for your kindness, Princess.” Allura extended her hand to Regalia, shaking it in a motion of mutual understanding. Pidge noted the momentary surprise on Allura’s face, before relaxing. That was rather odd. She really didn’t make much of it though.

She didn’t change from her paladin outfit for the party. Keith hadn’t either, nor had Shiro. She was sure Shiro was doing a guard shift, making sure there were no… incidents, like last time. While she couldn’t _blame_ him. She did wish he loosened up _just_ a little bit. She loved him a lot, but some days… _some days_. He had hassled Lance a bit whom had decided to ditch the paladin armour for something more party-appropriate. While Lance had hesitation, he threw it out the window, telling Shiro to relax and take a break. His uptightness was going to be the death of him.

She found herself leaning against a wall in the corner of the floor. She really wasn’t one for parties. Never had gotten invited to them, never had enjoyed the underaged drinking and sometimes the recreational usage of drugs that she had heard stories of. Teenagers were wild. Though the parties she had gone to—family gathering and the like—she tended to hover around and hoard as much food as she could, but since she was much shorter than most of the Gartos, it wasn’t possible to steal all the food for herself, unlike the time with the Arusians. So here she was, wishing she had something to fiddle with so she could pass the dreaded party time.

A jab to her sides drew her attention. She almost knocked out the perpetrator, but instinct told her that the only person stupid enough to earn a death wish was _Lance_. Turning around, her instinct was right. It was Lance and… Lance in a very nice outfit. Altean, obviously. It was a tailcoat, but very similar to Coran’s outfit. Just a little more formal.

“I see you’re being your wallflower self.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Not everyone is a social butterfly.”

Lance sighed and leaned against the wall. “Just wanted to check up on how you’re doing, so? How you doing?” He sent her a calming smile, and she could feel herself. She tried to push herself further back into the wall. She looked up to the ceiling, she could see the empty higher floors and their flashing lights.

“A little bit overwhelmed, if I can be frank.” She was used to big parties from her family gatherings. French-Canadian families were _big_ families. The parties tended to get a little bit extreme, lots of music and alcohol. Typically at least one or two people got drunk. And there were a lot of parties. They took any opportunity to celebrate and whip out the booze.

Lance sent her a frown. He paused for a moment, before Pidge was greeted with a wicked grin. Oh no. She knew those grins. She preferred giving those grins than receiving them. “Come on, follow me.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her far away from the action of the party. Pidge turned her head back, wondering if the others would miss them, but Allura was too caught up chatting with Regalia, while Keith and Hunk were goofing off with the weird food.

He pulled her outside, where the stars shone brightly and the flowers glowed like stars. She stumbled as she tried to catch her footing. Gartos were making their way into the castleship, chatting amiably while she could see Shiro being chatted up by a young Garto.

Lance brought her attention back to him. With a curtsy, he extended his hand for her. She looked at it a little dumbly, wondering exactly what to do.

“I'm offering you a dance.” He whispered to her. Oh. _Oh._ She looked to her left and her right, then slowly she took his hand. It was a little bit weird dancing in her paladin armour, while Lance was over dressed, yet somehow it felt right.

He twirled her a few times, and she found her head spinning. She took a few minutes to steady her head, and when her vision returned to normal, she was greeted to the sight of a glowing flower. Lance handed it to her, and she placed it in her hair, having nowhere else to put it. She'd used to do that as a kid a lot.

“That flower’s as unique and as beautiful as you.” He hushed.

Pidge smirked. “ _Hopeless romantic._ ”

Lance shrugged, finding nothing wrong with the statement. “What can I say? I'm a sappy kind of guy.” He batted his eyelashes a few times for good measure.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “And incredibly corny.” She retorted.

“But you _love_ it.” He rubbed it deep with a playfulness to his voice that was obviously meant to tease. She took his hand and began to twirl him relentlessly in return.

When he stopped spinning, he looked to her and they began to laugh. They took each other's hands once more and leaned closely, or as closely as they could, considering Pidge’s armour. It was a feat really, but they tried to pull it off as best they could. It was supposed to be comforting for the both of them, and it was. The flowers glowed softly in the moonlight, illuminating the surroundings, and the air had a sweet scent to it, making her brain relax to the alien environment.

Pidge leaned up and placed a kiss on his chin, too short to reach his lips, and too tired to even bother getting on her tippy toes to make the effort to kiss him on the lips. He could bend his knees if he really _wanted_ to kiss her on the lips. He opted to resting his head atop of hers. _Tall people privilege_. She muttered to herself.

To be fair, she loved it when Lance wrapped himself around her. And he was fun to hang off of, before they would both swiftly fall crashing to the ground because Lance has nowhere near the same arm strength as Hunk, the remaining Pidge-hanging champion. Hunk wasn't really sure what to be proud of, but he was damn well proud of it.

There was a call that the ceremony would begin soon. They let go of one another a little disappointed, but hey they could always pick up where they left off later. Lance made his way first, but Pidge stood back, immobilized. Something _still_ didn’t feel right. She looked around, but all she could see were the Gartos making their way within the castle. She caught eyes with one of them, one of the different Gartos with fuller skin and eyes that seemed human, but had a glow to it. The Garto smirked to her, and she felt her hair stand on the back of her neck.

“Hey Pidge, you coming?” Lance called back to her, seeing she hadn’t followed him when he had left to enter the Castle of Lions for the ceremony.

She turned her head back, but the Garto was gone. Weird. She turned back to Lance and caught up with him. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close reassuringly. Pidge turned her head back to look outside once more, still a little on edge, but there was nothing there.

At the top of the staircase stood Allura and the Garto leader, Regalia. It was very similar to when they had done this with the Arusians. She welcomed them to the Voltron Alliance and gave them a little device so they could be able to communicate. It was short, sweet and to the point. The people rejoiced with the new found alliance, and the festivities continued late into the night.

Pidge found herself deciding to escape the festivities, while Lance boasted in them. He flirted with some of the aliens and took their hands to enjoy a dance—It wasn’t that big of an issue with her for two reasons: Lance just flirts and they both were polyamorous. They’d talked over their rules and that if they got into another relationship, they would inform the other—Pidge decided to make her way to Shiro. She’d feel better going on a patrol. He’d returned for the ceremony and was just about to go on his patrol again. She called for him to wait up for her. He stopped and turned around, a bit curious as to what she wanted.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

Shiro looked to the festivities, then back to her. “You’ll miss the party.” She already knew that. It was the whole point.

“Never really been one for parties.”

It seemed that it was enough of a response for him, because he only nodded and they made their way around the castle. It was nice. The walk was quiet, and all they could hear was the sound of whatever fauna or insects or whatever other creatures inhabited this planet. People filtered in and out of the castle like moths to a lamp. You know she always wondered how all these alien planets only had one ruler. Why was that? Would she ever see a planet that had multiple rulers?

There was bustling around them and the scent of the air got sweeter. They stopped, looked around, waved to some Gartos who were out and about and enjoying the night. She found the atmosphere growing a little more awkward by the instant.

“So…how’s everything been?” Wow Pidge, the question of the century. What academic level of beauty.

Shiro looked to her and smiled. Oh she knew that smile. Oh that little shit smile. _Don't you dare lie between your teeth Takashi Shirogane._ “It's been good.” _Motherfucker._ Obviously, she was not satisfied. The pout was made quite obvious. Shiro lowered his eyes and gave a deep exhale. Fatigue. A deep, deep fatigue. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Pidge sent him a look of annoyance. She bit her lips inward, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Just don't kill yourself. We might need you, but _you_ need you.” She sounded tired, and a little bit exasperated. Probably rightfully so. Takashi _“I'll just suppress my emotions so I don't show my emotional vulnerability to the team so they do not see me as an incompetent leader, all the while this method of coping is making my emotional, physical and mental state deteriorate at an alarming rate”_ Shirogane. Jeez.

She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying her best to give him a supportive hug. She cared. She cared a lot. She didn't want him to die because mister “my mental health isn't as important as my team” didn't take care of himself. He ruffled her hair in return for the show of affection. It was nice to know his team cared for him. He did. He was glad to know it wasn't one way.

They pulled away and continued their patrol in silence. Pidge still couldn't stop that fishy feeling of something about to go horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

**Day 1**

She'd fallen asleep in the hall again. Nothing new really, but some of the others found it a little disconcerting. She heard approaching footsteps. They stopped right in front of her. She furiously blinked her eyes and grimaced when she looked up. Curse you artificial altean light.

It was Hunk. Beautiful sunshine Hunk. God just him and the altean light was making her want to go back to sleep.

“Oh good, glad you're okay.” He placed a hand on his chest. He turned back to the hall and cuffed his hands around his mouth. “Guys! I found Pidge! She's a okay!”

Pidge groaned. “Ugh. Hunk. It's like, morning. _Why_ are you yelling.”

Hunk turned back to her, blinking a little surprised. “Oh, _oh right._ You, Lance and Shiro were the only ones to go outside last night and have been…weird.”

Pidge eyed Hunk suspiciously. “Weird _how?_ ” Lance was weird sometimes. She knew Lance was weird. God he was her boyfriend obviously she was going to know he was a weird nerd. She was weird too, but like that wasn't the point. Shiro on the other hand… depends on what one would qualify as weird.

Hunk fiddled with his hands nervously. “Well, Lance was kinda loopy? And I mean _loopy._ He kept walking into everything and his eyes were hazed over. Shiro’s kind of the same way? I mean he’s not walking into everything, but like he’s been spacey. Shiro’s not really the type of person to be spacey, you know? Keith's kinda worried. It would be funny if the situation wasn't so freaky.” Okay that was a bit weird. Hunk continued to stammer on. “Coran said maybe it was the party? I mean since you aren't like them maybe it was the party?”

“Your guess is about as good as mine buddy.” Pidge supplied.

Hunk had been right though, Pidge had to admit. Lance was a bit…odd. She personally did not like it. Typically she would have laughed her ass off, but that wasn't the case. She and Hunk dealt with Lance’s clumsiness. He kept on mumbling stuff about being tired and wanting to sleep, but they tried to pull him along for the day.

She hadn't seen Shiro at all.

When she found herself curled up against Lance, looking up at the ceiling, she couldn't help, but think something wasn't right. Something _hadn't_ felt right since the moment they stepped onto the planet. She couldn't place her finger on what exactly. She looked over to the flower he had picked for her, glowing ominously in the dark.

She hoped things would be better tomorrow.

**Day 2**

The meetings with the Gartos would continue for a few days, Allura had informed them. While they were positive on entering the Alliance, there were terms and briefing to take into consideration. Both parties had information to inform the other of. Allura was a bit curious as to how the Gartos were able to fend off the Galra for so long. Apparently Regalia was all, but willing to tell her when Allura gave her end of the bargain. For someone so young in appearance, they were a tremendous negotiator and a force to be reckoned with according to Allura.

So here they were, on Gartanor, waiting for when they could finally leave. She woke up and Lance was still asleep beside her. A bit disgruntled, she kicked her legs over the side of the bed and made her way to eat breakfast with the others.

Keith found himself hovering over Shiro, trying to raise _anything_ from him, but he only looked down to his food, too dazed to even do something. There was that feeling in Pidge’s stomach again.

Pidge pulled up a chair next to Hunk, who sent her a worried look. “How’s Lance?” Pidge shrugged as a bowl of foodgoo was sliding her way.

“He was still asleep when I woke up. Might join us soon.” She took a bite and swallowed. “How’s Shiro?”

Keith’s voice rose a little, trying to get something out of Shiro’s mouth. It still wasn't working and Keith was growing more frustrated and desperate by the second. He had no idea what he could even _do_.

“Not good.” That was probably an understatement.

She walked around the Castleship, trying to distract herself. Shiro hadn't moved since the morning. It was a bit frightening. He was like a statue. This wasn't Shiro at all. None of them liked it. Apparently Hunk was trying to reach out to Coran.

Pidge wandered back to Lance’s room, willing to check up on him. The door slid open, and his eyes were closed. He was breathing though, so that was good. She walked in, trying to replace her worry with her regular sly demeanour.

“Come on Lance. Up and at ‘em. The world needs our beautiful sharpshooter.” Not even all the praise she had just given him rose a response out of him. Now something was truly off. Lance _loved_ praise. Goddamn praise kink she was about 99.9% positive, and he basked and  preened pridefully in the comments. Not this time. He didn't even bat an eyelash.

“…sleepy. So sleepy…” he muttered to himself.

She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. Maybe she should get Coran to check up on him? She knew Hunk wanted to do the same with Shiro, so maybe they could kill two birds with one stone? She lifted her head, jumped off the bed and headed to find Hunk, and hopefully by extension Coran.

Her walk down the hall turned into a run when she heard yelling. More specifically Keith and Hunk’s. She skidded on the floor, panting as she tried to assess the situation. Hunk was to the back, beside Coran, while Keith tried his best—failing miserably if she was being honest—to get Shiro to listen, pulling on him to stop.

“Shiro, _listen_. You _need_ to get into a cryopod.” Keith tugged once more, gritting his teeth.

“I’m fine… I just need sleep.” Shiro pulled back, harsher than she had ever seen him do before.

Shiro and sleep? What Twilight Zone was this. She felt _horrible_ he wasn’t getting any sleep, but the reality of the situation was… he wasn’t getting any sleep. At all. He just didn’t. That’s why he always found her curled up in some weird part of the castle at who knows how early in the morning. Always so nonchalant about it too, trying to never have her, or anyone else for that matter, be concerned about him. If anything was going to hurt Shiro right now, it was his sleep schedule.

Keith let go of Shiro, not being able to hold on any longer. He was about to reach out to Shiro again, but Pidge stopped him. He looked down to her, his eyes flaring with anger as to _why_ he was being stopped on something as important as this.

“If he wants to sleep he wants to sleep. It’s a novelty for him, let him at least experience it.” Keith gave her a glare, but she held her ground. She was older than him. She wasn’t about to use that card, probably because well, no one actually _knew_. Pretty sure Keith thought she was like twelve or something. Only Lance knew—she was pretty sure the others, though she quickly remembered, _right Shiro would also know_ , thought the team baby jokes aimed at Lance were because of his attitude.

Hunk approached Keith and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll check up on him tomorrow.” Hunk turned his head to Coran. “Right?”

“Absolutely!” Coran made a swinging gesture with his arm. “While bed rest can cure any ailment, if his condition worsens, we’ll put him in the cryopod.” Keith still didn’t seem reassured, his gaze calculating and mulling over the idea.

His shoulders slackened, and he gave out a small puff. “Alright, but first thing tomorrow. Cryopod.” Coran hummed in agreement. Keith gave everyone a once over, and without further being said, he stalked off back to his room.

Pidge turned back to Coran. “Can we do the same for Lance too? He’s been kind of off these past two days.”

Coran nodded. “Will do. I have no concern it is anything serious, nothing that proper bed rest cannot fix, but to satisfy everyone’s nerves, we may use the cryopods.”

Pidge sent Coran a smile. “Thanks Coran.” He ruffled her hair with a fatherly smile on his face. Yeah. Nothing serious. Nothing bed rest couldn’t fix.

**Day 3**

When Pidge woke up the next morning, it was to a cold body. No breathing; no pulse.

All she could do was scream.

 

 


	2. And For Blood You Rise

She didn’t want to let go. Both bodies were cold _and she didn’t want to let go._ Her brother and father were gone. Gone and lost with the stars. She didn’t know if they were still alive or long long dead. Now here she was, someone whom she allowed to get herself close and intimate with, _dead within a matter of days_. All she could remember was his smiling face, horrible flirting, corny pick-up lines and bad jokes. Now all she could see was a neutral face, cold, still, not breathing. He was nothing more than a crashing wave on the shoreline of her life, making its mark and leaving without a trace. _It made her want to hurl_. 

Then there was Shiro. _Shiro_. Someone she considered family, someone whom she had a shining hope attached to, someone who she thought would be the key to all of her questions, was dead. Cold, not breathing, _lifeless_. Gone with the wind, to be there no more. She could feel the tears rolls down her eyes as she screamed, Hunk holding her back so she didn’t do anything she would later regret.

_And Keith._ Now he stood strong, his head lowered, bitting on his lower lip, trying not to sob, trying not to break down like Pidge had, trying _so so very hard_ not to destroy everything and everyone in a 5-kilometre radius in his grief. He’d been so close to Shiro. He had been the one who thought something was off. He had been the one to try and get Shiro into a cryopod. She couldn’t imagine the insatiable amount of grief he felt, how much fire burned in the pit of his stomach, nagging at him, eating away at him.

_And Hunk_. Lance’s best friend. They’d been close. Not tied at the hip like Keith and Shiro, but they had been close nonetheless. The loss hit him hard. Despite holding Pidge back, he was crying. He was openly crying. She couldn’t imagine how much guilt he felt. The things he should’ve done. The things he should’ve noticed. He should’ve pushed harder, he should’ve gotten Coran sooner. He should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. The ifs were probably tearing away at him, breaking him down like an earthquake.

_And Coran, and Allura._ They considered the team their family, their new-found family. There was so much they didn’t know about the two, but so many memories they had made in such a short time. So much hope placed upon their shoulders, so much love and trust, all gone _within the span of three days._ Not only had they lost their people once, twice, _thrice,_ but they had lost their last speck of hope.

The Gartos had been kind enough to allow them to bury their dead. There was no place to keep the bodies in the Castleship, and no way of being able to bring them back to Earth. God she couldn’t even imagine being able to face Earth, go to their families and tell them they had died. Not even a noble death in battle. _Accidental. Something that should have and could have been cured._

They lowered the bodies into the dirt. Slowly, but surely, they covered it up. Their faces vanished in the dirt, covered nothing then by some cloth Regalia had passed to them.  There was little they could do. The burial felt barbaric, _but it was the best they could do_. They weren’t ready for a burial. They had never expected to bury bodies, not their own bodies.

There wasn’t much to the funeral. It was brief, very brief, almost too brief. They left without much else after leaving a tombstone, or a marker. It wasn’t anything much. There wasn’t much they were able to write on the surface. There wasn’t enough room. All they could do was write their names, who they were, date of birth and date of death. 21 and 19. Shiro was 21 and Lance was 19. And death was _so so cruel._

Pidge had to be ushered back into the Castleship by Coran, held softly, her hair being petted reassuringly. All she could do was stare numbly to where she last saw them. The two missing pieces of her family, gone forever and never to come back. 

The Castle of Lions felt empty, and she felt oddly numb. She’d fallen asleep in the halls and missed breakfast. Shiro wasn’t here to wake her up anymore. Shiro wasn’t here to send her back to her room, where she would skip and go to Lance’s room, snuggle up with a warm body and listen to music to fall asleep. Lance wasn’t here anymore to do any of that either. 

She felt numb.

Keith wasn’t here either. Without Shiro grounding him, they were back to square one. He was anger. He was fury. He was blinding rage. He tried to process the grief the best way he could and that was by locking himself in the training room with the Gladiator. No one was going to drag him out.

Hunk and Allura weren’t great. Hunk was always open about his emotions. His grief was on his sleeve, out in the open and raw. She’d find him crying to himself late at night, trying to tinker something, but failing miserably, unable to see through the tears. Pidge noted Allura’s eyes were puffy too, red and puffy. She was obviously crying when she was alone, where no one else could see her, where no one could see how lost she actually was.

Coran was the only one to hold strong. A man over six hundred years old, who had seen countless deaths, but the deaths of the young were taxing on his heart and she heard him cry when no one else would, deep in the silence of the night. It felt invasive on her part, but wails echoed down the hall. _Why had it not been me_ , was all she could hear through the sobs. The death of the young hurt the most.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been. They had left Gartanor right after the burial. No one wanted to think of what they had to do next. It was obvious, find the new Black and Blue paladins. She didn’t want to think of it. It made her stomach churn at the thought. It was still too early, _but they needed to_. For the sake of the universe, Voltron needed to be able to be formed at a moment's notice. Without a head and a pillar, Voltron was nothing more than three lost lions.

She was curled up in her room, but she began to hate the sight of it. It was a carbon copy of Lance’s. She could still feel his presence on her skin. It ate at her and didn’t let her sleep at night. She already didn’t have a regular sleeping schedule, but not sleeping at all wouldn’t cut it. She could hear Lance’s shrill voice in the back of her head, telling her how much beauty sleep was important and she would thank him later. She chuckled, but the nostalgia only made her feel worse. He’d been alive and breathing days ago, just days ago, bright and cheery.

She needed a distraction. She kicked her feet off her bed, deciding maybe a midnight walk would be the best to calm her racing mind. She’d get lost in the castle, maybe then she could feel better about all of this? Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t feel better about any of this, but the momentary distraction was something she _desperately_ needed.

She wandered, she wasn’t sure for how long, but she wandered the entirety of the castle until she reached the bridge. A little bored, she pulled up the star map. She gritted her teeth, trying not to let memories overwhelm her. She was good. She was _okay_. _Okay, maybe this was also my worst id—_ a blinking light caught her attention. It was a distress beacon. _A distress beacon from Gartanor_. She blinked, and as soon as she saw it, the beacon was gone. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t been seeing things, right? No, no. She definitely saw the distress beacon.

She looked around. No one would see her. No one would notice if she left. They weren’t too far out from Gartanor, and Green could go fast. She’d be gone and back before _anyone_ could notice.

* * *

 

When Shiro woke up, it wasn't to the isolation of his room, but cold hard dirt, with faint glowing flowers in the distance. It wasn't to chosen solitude, but to a slow pulse. It was a sleeping pulse. He looked up, sleeping soundly against a wall had been Lance. His eyes were a little puffy, red even. Crying? 

Shiro looked around, trying to grasp his surroundings. His clothes and Lance’s were covered in remnants of dirt, potentially caused by sleeping in the cave. Where exactly were they? The glowing flowers reminded him of Gartanor. Was this Gartanor? Why weren't they back at the castle with the others?

Something caught Shiro’s attention when he heard rustling from the entrance of the cave. The figure was hidden in the shadows until they were right before his eyes. Regalia.

“I'm glad my nose did not lie to me. You must be confused and starved.” They leaned down, placing a hand to his check. “I'm sorry for what has happened to you. May we be able to beg for forgiveness.” Their voice was pained, terribly pained.

Shiro tried to speak up to them, wondering exactly _what was going on_ , but no sound came out. All it was, was the sound of a raspy voice squawking. That’s when he noticed it. _He wasn't breathing._ Panic began to settle in.

Regalia began to pat his shoulders reassuringly. “It's alright, everything is alright my child. Take a breath, then speak.”

Shiro followed their instructions. “What…what happened?” His voice was raspy. It didn't sound like his own, but it was.

“You died.” Regalia was to the point. Shiro’s eyes widened. No. How was he even? He couldn't be dead. Lifting his left hand, he placed his index and middle finger upon his jugular, searching for a pulse. No pulse. He had no pulse. _How was he conscious with no pulse?_ “Some of the younger, hungrier Avani lacked better judgment and feasted upon you, our allies.” They pointed past him, towards Lance. “Your friend over there became an Otopa. I would like to say the stars are in both of your favour.”

All this was confusing to Shiro. Avani? Otopa? Regalia sounded so casual about it all, like he just hadn't died and risen from the dead. Like Lance hadn't just died and risen from the dead.

The team.

How long had it been? Oh god no. No no _no._ They must have thought they were dead. They had to contact them, tell them they were alive. That they weren't dead, they were just fine. They weren’t—but they had. They had died. They were dead and the team thought they were dead.

A small cup was placed in front of him, pulling him away from his downward spiral. Its contents were liquid and golden in substance. It smelled oddly bittersweet and familiar. Not in the good familiar either. There was a tinge of metal in its scent, but it made him realize exactly how hungry he was.

“Drink. You’ll need your strengths. The Hunger is frightful.” Regalia pushed the cup forward. The hunger? Shiro wearily took the cup, but one sniff of it made his mouth water. He carefully raised it to his lips, and in one go downed it. Regalia smiled. “You and your friend will have much to learn.” Without much left to be said, Regalia left.

He felt himself began to feel better after the drink, but that didn't make _himself_ feel better. Slowly he rose off the ground. His first priority was to get in contact with the Castle of Lions. From there they could find out _what_ exactly happened to them. He turned around and kneeled over to take Lance upon his shoulder, but the younger man groaned. He was conscious—and he also had a pulse, but Shiro wasn't exactly going to bother with that yet.

“Ugh…” He opened and closed his mouth twice, slowly taking in the surroundings around him. He looked up to Shiro. “…hey, have your eyes always been black and red?” Lance blinked twice. In a flash, he was on his feet, arms wrapped tightly around Shiro’s waist. “You're alive! Holy cheese you're alive!” He nuzzled his head into Shiro’s chest, before pulling away quickly, a faint reddish hue to his cheeks and the beginning of tears in his eyes. But there was no smile. It was shock mixed with realization. “You don't…you're freezing and—” Lance’s heart stopped, literally stopped. But nothing occurred. 

“Lance.” Shiro placed his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, eliciting a flinch from the cold sensation of his hands. Lance was still normal body temperature, or maybe a bit cooler. The raspiness of Shiro’s voice did not go unnoticed. “Breathe.” Lance nodded and did just that. “Good.” He stared Lance in the eyes, they didn't look the same, there was some sort of… glow to them. “Do you know anything about our current situation?”

“I—I met Regalia when I woke up. They said I was something called an Otopa? I honestly have no idea what that means. They said you were most likely an Avani? It's been eight days since they last told me anything.” Okay. He was still unsure of those terms, but Shiro assumed it was to refer to whatever Lance and he had become. There was also the time that had passed. Approximately eight days. Maybe even more. The Castleship was potentially long gone by now. They would need to find a way to contact them.

“We need to contact the others. We’ll have to find a means to broadcast a distress beacon, can I count on you for that?” Shiro stared Lance down. Lance nodded vigorously. “Let's go.”

A lot of their time had been spent avoiding the Gartos, and trying to map out the locations. There happened to be a few close calls, either Lance was a bit too chatty, or Shiro was a bit too noticeable. All they could really see were flowers. Glowing flowers everywhere. A wind picked up, rustling everything. Suddenly, the ones that resembled Lance began to usher those who resembled Shiro away from a specific area.

Shiro covered his mouth, trying to filter out the air. He felt like he was drowning in a sickeningly sweet scent that glued to his lips. They took the cue and rushed back to their cave, where the smell was dull in their noses. Shiro coughed, the scent still in his nose and heavy on his lungs. He felt like he swallowed water and it went down the wrong tube. 

“Was it just me or was that like, normal for them?” Shiro looked to Lance, who was staring at the outside oddly. He did have a bit of a point. It looked like the norm for these people, which meant it was going to be the norm for Lance and Shiro as well. Wonderful. Shiro felt his eyes grow heavier as he slumped against the wall. Maybe it was exhaustion? Could he even still feel exhaustion? He had so many questions, all of which he knew he nor Lance could answer, leaving Regalia being the key to it all. “Hey Shiro?” Lance called out to him a few more times, but it sounded as if it were all underwater.

When he woke up, it was to Lance’s trembling. When Shiro caught Lance’s eye, he jumped, but calmed down. “Right. Your—your eyes.” It sounded like a self-reminder. Despite the funny tone, he was still faintly shaking. He wouldn't have even noticed, had he not been curled up against Lance. He was sure he heard Lance’s heart stop suddenly, but Lance seemed as good as day. “We should try and find that distress beacon, get the others.” He muttered a few things under his breath, something about Keith, Hunk and Pidge.

Shiro looked around the cave. There were two cups, both filled with golden contents. His body was telling him to take it. He needed it desperately. Lance caught his gaze. “Oh yeah, Regalia showed up again. I asked about that thing that happened yesterday—vaguely, of course, don't give me that look—apparently there's like this smell that's killing them. The Otopa can smell it, meaning they can get the Avani out of the way. Kind of like monoxide?” Lance rambled off to himself. Shiro acknowledged that storing that information in ‘new restrictive matters’ and ‘important information’. He slowly reached out for the glass, and Lance shut up immediately, cutting himself off in the middle of his sentence.

“You shouldn't drink that.” He said suddenly. Shiro raised an eyebrow, pulling his hand away from the glass.

“Is there a reason for that?” Lance lowered his gaze, debating over saying something or not. It sort of looked like one of those moments when he actually didn't have a come back at all.

“Regalia keeps bringing them to us. What if they put something in them?” Okay, that was possible, but a bit far-fetched, considering Regalia had gone out of their way for the Alliance with Voltron. Why now?

“They’ve been a kind host during our stay in the castle, and they've been kind enough to help us.” Lance bit his lip. Then, there was a spark in his eyes. Defiance. He'd made up his mind.

“I'm pretty sure our _kind host_ is kind, but they're also a quiznacking vampire! They've been giving us alien blood Shiro. I saw them bleed a Galra to death. They've been feeding us Galra blood.” He could hear a retching sound coming from Lance. Shiro could feel himself growing a little sick as well, but his hunger didn't deter. It was growing by the second. By extension that meant… they were vampires. They were vampires. It's why he was dead, but alive. 

He edged away from the cups. They didn't need it. They were fine. They could always just find some other good source to sustain them. He rose to his feet and helped Lance up. They made their way out and back into the outside.

The outside world of their cave had always been odd. It was filled with life, bubbling about, chatting, laughing, dancing and singing. It looked like some sort of Earth village, if everyone had apparently been a vampire. Lance stocked close to Shiro. He’d never admit it, but he was damn well terrified. Shiro seemed like he had his composure, and he was willing to follow the guy to his second death.

A few Gartos waved to them cheerily. Awkwardly, Lance waved back while Shiro continued on their search. Where exactly could they find a distress beacon? Maybe by the castle? Was it even a castle? If so how could they distract the hypothetical people guarding it?

A tap on his shoulder pulled him back to reality. He saw a small figure, eyes as black as the nights back on Earth. Regalia. “It's good to see you out and about, but you seem famished. Come, the Hunger is frightful.” They grabbed Shiro’s hand, grip stronger than he could’ve expected. Lance grabbed his hand quickly, allowing himself to be tugged along as well.

Regalia’s home was large. It almost felt like a compound of sorts, really. People waved to the leader of the Gartos merrily before continuing on with their lives. When they caught sight of Shiro and Lance, the Gartos whispered curiously to one another. Rumours were sure to fly fast, and Shiro knew well he wanted to remain in anonymity.

Regalia’s house looked like a castle made of bones. It was large, interweaving and interconnecting. The windows seemed to have a semblance to stained glass, displaying the story of their god, or maybe even their demise or their history. You couldn't really know with alien cultures. A death ceremony in one culture could be marriage or birth in another. Aliens were just that diverse. The inside was lit softly with violets, pinks, reds and blues. There was even a small ominous green glow. Instead of waving, the people bowed to Regalia, but kept their eyes on Shiro and Lance. Regalia pulled them along, to what looked like a dining room, a long table stood with nothing more than glasses filled with gold as the meal.

Shiro dropped Regalia’s hand, backing away cautiously from the table. Lance stood a foot behind, hiding behind the larger man, biting his lip down, afraid but unwilling to admit it. Regalia turned to the two, confusion as plain as day. “Come now, eat. The Hunger only makes you violent.” 

“What’s this ‘Hunger,’ you keep speaking of?” Lance poked his head out from behind Shiro, putting hunger within air quotations and hoping his tone of voice sounded accusatory and totally not scared.

Shiro raised a hand, telling Lance to back off. “What he means is that you have told us to do without much explanation.”

“Oh, of course. Humans have always needed a reason for their rhyme.” Regalia hummed. They took rather childish steps towards the table, slowly they picked a glass, decorated in gold and ornamental flowers similar to the one’s that glow in the night. “Much like humans need food to eat, Gartos need the life force of others. While we can strive from some vegetation on this planet, we rely on poor Galra scouts sent to die.” There was almost a bit of humour in their voice, and it sent shivers down Lance’s spine. Shiro though, stood his ground. He had a feeling he had encountered far worse in the arena. “We do what we can to survive.” It sounded sadly solemn and almost nostalgic. Bitterly nostalgic.

“And this ‘Hunger,’ you keep mentioning?” Shiro tried to probe further. Regalia raised their gaze, black eyes making contact with equally black eyes. A tragic smile took hold of the Garto’s face. The expression did not bode well with Shiro. Far, far from it.

“A hunger so insatiable takes us over when we do not allow ourselves to eat. We grow weak, hysteric and willing to harm anyone to acquire what we crave.” Regalia examined the glass filled with golden liquid; Galra blood. “I'm sure between your friends and your enemies, you would rather prefer the faces you do not know.” 

“But you still kill them to eat them.” Lance retorted rather hastily. Shiro looked down to the brunet, a bit surprised by the outburst. 

Regalia sent him a glance, not even willing to allow a reaction from his messily retort. “And they would have killed us. The Galra so happen to be attacking our home. We take advantage of this to keep ourselves sustained.” Lance bit his tongue.

“You mentioned vegetation?” Shiro inquired cautiously.

Regalia placed the cup down. They sighed and crossed their hands, turning to Shiro, a sad smile on their face. “Yes, but only to hold over until our next meal. It is not enough for us to thrive. You may attempt to trick yourself, but the Hunger will come.”

All three of them stood in silence. They needed blood to live. Shiro caught Lance muttering about being vampires beneath his breath, the notion finally sinking in for him. It was odd, so to speak. Alien vampires, who would have thought, and who would have thought he would die to something as simple as that. How… ironic.

Regalia walked around, grabbing two glasses and moving towards the two of them. They outstretched the glasses, presenting them as nothing more than harmless drinks. “Eat.”

Lance glanced to Shiro, waiting for an answer. Begrudgingly, Shiro nodded. Together, they reached out and together they drank the blood of their enemies.

Regalia smiled. “There.” They clapped their hands, glee overtaking them. “I have prepared living quarters for the both of you, and clothing as well. It's the least we can do for causing this to you, Voltron Paladins. If you would follow me?” Regalia began to head towards the door they had gone through, and lead them back outside once more.

Children passed, crying delightfully as they played with one another. More people had gathered, whispering as the three passed. Regalia took it all in stride, while Shiro and Lance felt like animals being watched. It was unnerving. Being Paladins of Voltron? Shiro could handle the attention to an extent. Lance bathed in it though. He loved the attention and the limelight. Now? Now he felt like he wanted to curl up and die. Again.

Oh god Pidge. _Pidge._ He bit his lip, stopping the cold tears forming at his eyes and the gasp from escaping his throat. Pidge thought he was dead. She had not only lost her father, her brother and found herself light years away from her mother. She had also witnessed the death of her partner in three short days. With no such thing as a goodbye. No kiss. No nothing. Just sleep and bam. He died.

 

Before he could kick himself for what was completely out of his control, he found himself bumping into Shiro. Shiro made sure if he was okay, but all Lance had to ask was why they had stopped. The answer was simple, they had arrived at their housing. It was small, but Regalia said it was the best they could do on such short notice. Shiro could only thank them for the kindness they had shown to them, because really, they were being kind despite his disdain towards their situation. Regalia made nothing of it. It was far better than living in the dirt. They were part of the Garto community now. They needed a place to call home.

Right. Part of the community. 

Regalia wished them a good rest. If they needed anything, they only needed to ask around. Being left to their own devices, Lance decided to investigate. He went in first and whistled at the sight before his eyes. “Shiro, _you gotta check this out._ ” Shiro raised an eyebrow, but followed Lance in nonetheless. Closing the door behind them, he took in the sights. It was small, but the place was fully furnished. It was almost impersonal, just as impersonal as his quarters back on the Castle of Lions, but not as overbearingly white. 

Shiro took a step, but noticed the stink eye Lance was giving him. He raised an eyebrow, rather confused. “ _We don’t wear shoes inside a house you heathen._ ” Harsh. Taken aback, Shiro took off his shoes, and placed them next to where Lance had placed his own. Lance nodded, content with the fix he had made to Shiro’s grave error.  

Lance ran around, inspecting the place up and down. Shiro remained with examining the first room he had entered. There was an empty bookshelf, a high table and high chairs, a small case with those glowing flowers and a sofa across from a fire place. 

“They have bathrooms!” He could hear Lance yell excitedly from somewhere in the house. Well. That was good to hear. No need to piss in a bucket or outdoors, which could lead to a multitude of other things. After a few minutes, Lance came running back down, his face a bit flushed from the running and screaming. Though, his panting clued Shiro a bit better on his exhaustion. Still, it was odd he was even panting in the first place, for that matter it was odd he had a heartbeat. They should have asked Regalia about the differences between Avani and Otopa. Shiro crossed that thought out. He could figure it out himself.

“Okay so there are three floors, kind of like those old houses that are built more for height than for width?” Lance looked around, his hands on his hips. He seemed a bit impressed. “Two bathrooms, first floor and third floor. First floor seems to be a kitchen and a living room.” Shiro nodded, he could see that for himself. “There also seems to be a laundry room? Honestly I have no idea. Aliens.” Aliens. He could agree to that. “Second floor has 3 rooms. One of them looks to be a study. Not sure about the other two. Third floor is uh…” Lance’s face flushed again, but this time from awkwardness. “Third floor is just a bedroom. One bed. Kind of stereotypical attic bedroom. Big bed.” He flushed. Oh.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa if it's too much.” Shiro offered.

Lance shook his hands. “No no. We have to, uh… be able to stay warm?” His excuse sounded obviously fake, and Shiro felt horrible for wanting to laugh a little. Lance frustratingly groaned. “What I mean is that. I don't mind. You need sleep. I need sleep. We can just build a pillow wall if you want.” Lance mumbled the last part, but Shiro could see Lance take his eyes away from him, before taking a quick glance back nervously before rapidly looking away again.

“If you insist, but if you change your mind, the sofa will still be here for me.” Shiro turned to the sofa and patted it lightly. “Waiting.” Lance snorted.

“It's alright. The bed is big enough for like, eight people.” Lance made an approximation of the bed’s size with his hands. 

Lance watched as Shiro made his way up the stairs and at god it was not the time to remind him of his massive crush on Shiro. Especially not now with all of this shit. He rubbed his hair a bit angrily. He just needed to chill. Breathe, Lance.

He followed Shiro up to the third floor once he felt himself calm. He caught Shiro looking through the circular window, looking out to space longingly and gripping his Galra hand. Lance made his way over to what he could only assume was a dresser and pulled it open. Clothes were hung on the rack, rather similar to the other Gartos. There were blues and blacks and some violet. He assumed the blues were meant for him. He looked down to his dirt ridden shirt and pants. He could go for a shower right now. He turned back to Shiro who was still staring out into the distance. 

“Hey, I’m gonna shower now.” Shiro made no sound of acknowledgment. Lance gave Shiro a concerned glance before begrudgingly making his way to the shower. He needed to get himself cleaned up. Over 8 days of filth was not doing wonders for his skin.

Shiro heard the sound of a shower echo in the distance, but he made nothing of it. He was still looking around and about, thinking about what they could do next. Their top priority was still to get back to the others, no matter the cost at this point. He could go out now and search for a beacon, but was he willing to leave Lance alone and defenseless? The thought didn’t sit well with him. He knew Lance was fully capable, but there was something telling him _not_ to leave him alone. Not to leave him defenseless when he was the only other person in this situation with him. It was almost irrational, but he couldn’t disagree. They would do this as a team and they would go home as a team.

He moved away from the window and to the cupboard that had been left open. Inside were clothes divided by colours, blue, black and violet. They must have thought they were colour-coded people of sorts, but it did make sorting what clothes were his and what clothes were Lance’s far easier. He hesitated to discard the clothes on his back and take those given to him. He was covered in filth, but the vest on his back was given to him by Keith. Discarding it meant… No, he was being ludicrous. Considering there was a laundry room, he could wash the vest. It would be good as new, not dirty. Tentatively, he pulled off the vest and neatly placed it to the side. If he was willing to be honest, he was ready to jump out of this prisoner suit that was a remnant of his past. Despite so desperately wanting to regain his memories and know _what happened_ , the suit was a reminder he felt he could do without. He was no longer a prisoner of war. He would free himself from the chains, and with the suit gone, maybe he could feel some form of freedom. He could permit himself that. He would discard his former chains for the new ones that forceful bound him down. 

He took a deep breath, but remembered it was quite pointless now. He no longer needed to breathe. Still, expressions would stay, and he was doing it too firm his motivation. He was going to do it. He pulled off the suit and discarded it haphazardly to the side, not willing to even make a goodbye ceremony to his year-long friend. There was no need to give courtesy to trash. If he was being honest, he mostly wore his paladin armour because of the prisoner jumpsuit. A jumpsuit for another. It felt almost fitting.

He reached into the cupboard, pulling out a few garments, before taking what he assumed to be sleepwear. He was technically and t-shirt and boxers sort of person (as briefs felt too close to panties and in the past his dysphoria would kill him), but considering he was sharing a bed, he’d put on a pair of pants, for modesty’s sake. Despite feeling grimy, his eyes felt heavy. Sleep had never come easily for him, but now he felt as if he would fall into a coma at moment’s notice. As he sat down, he heard the shower turn off and Lance step out, towel around his hair and another at his hip and clothes held to his side. He walked over to the wardrobe, pulled out the first thing he saw and tugged it on.

He took note of the discarded jumpsuit and kicked it further away, potentially catching Shiro’s drift, considering he also saw the neatly folded vest to the side of the wardrobe and had placed his own clothes neatly beside them, as well as the towel that had been at his waist. He made his way over to the bed and sat down, his side dipping, catching Shiro’s attention. They shared a look for two seconds, before Lance turned away, trying to still his beating heart. So, despite being a vampire, it bothered him that he had a pulse and could breathe, compared to Shiro, who couldn’t and had no pulse. “Good night.” He mumbled, before throwing a pillow between them and curling up. There was no time for any of this nonsense. Their goal was to contact the castle and get home. They’d find a beacon and light it up, hoping it would draw their attention. A planet they had formed an alliance with having a distress beacon going up would definitely catch the team’s attention. 


	3. Star Crossed Fuck-ups

When Shiro’s eyes fluttered open, it was not to the window he had fallen asleep looking at, nor the pillow Lance had placed as a barricade between the two of them, but Lance himself, fast asleep, snoring softly. He was curled up close and Shiro realized that Lance was gripping his arm tightly, his grip almost inhuman. For a second, he thought it was cute. Then reality hit and he realized Lance was _incredibly_ close to him. And breathing. That bothered him a bit, but he put that down to the fact that he was an Avani and Lance was an Otopa. He still had no idea what the difference exactly entailed apart from the air thing. He could potentially find out. Slowly lifting Lance’s fingers one by one, taking away the grip he had on Shiro’s human arm, Shiro removed himself from the bed. Lance audibly groaned and rolled over. Carefully, Shiro made his way to the wardrobe, pulling out a new pair of clothes. It seemed the Gartos clothing were rather simplistic. A tunic and tight pants were what he would be wearing for the day. He looked to his right and noticed the neat pile of dirty clothes. He turned back to Lance who was clearly still within his world of dreams. He would probably appreciate it if Shiro washed his clothes as well. Without needing confirmation from Lance, he scooped up the clothes and made his way down to the first floor where Lance had said the laundry room was located.

When Lance awoke, it was to solitude. The world was still dark, but the stars were always bright, and the moons illuminated the world, giving off enough light to see. He pulled off the covers and rubbed his eyes, the situation he was in coming back in a flash. Right. He was with Shiro on Gartanor. Everyone thought they were dead. They were vampires. He reached into the wardrobe and pulled on a robe, but there were no slippers in sight. He frowned. He really missed his blue lion slippers. For one, they were _adorable_ , secondly, they were to die for. Wait. Bad choice of words. _They were heavenly_. No, still a horrible choice of words. He decided to ditch the train of thought and make his way down the stairs. The second floor was empty, but he could hear the distant thumping of what he could only assume was the washer or the dryer. Making his way down to the first floor, he caught sight of Shiro, a pile of books on the table where he sat, immersed in a book himself. Shiro must have heard him coming down the stairs, as he raised his eyes from the pages of his book and made contact with Lance. 

Awkwardly, Lance attempted to make idle conversation. “Mornin’.” He had to stifle a yawn that quickly took over himself. Shiro smiled to him and returned the greeting. He seemed a bit cheerier. Odd. Lance made his way over to the high table, illuminated by a single overhead lamp. He hoisted himself onto the chair and leaned to catch a glimpse of one of the titles of the pile of books. He honestly had no idea how to make it out. It was like altean to him, illegible. He blinked a few times, finally noting the glasses on Shiro’s eyes. He could see little things on the glasses, as if they were alien tech. Oh. Probably translators. That was neat. He had to stop his impulse to peer at the glasses curiously, which would have meant getting all up in Shiro’s personal space. Lance was sure that was obviously not the way to go. “So what’re all these books?” He picked one up, deciding maybe there were pictures inside that could give him _some_ clue. 

Shiro, without even lifting his eyes up from his book, snatched the book Lance had taken out of the other boy’s hands. Lance gave a small cry of disappointment, but Shiro ignored it. He really did not want to lose his place on his page. Finally, reaching an adequate part to stop, he marked his spot, closed the book and looked up to face Lance. “I decided to go out and see if I could find some books about this place and who and what these people are.”

Lance nodded his head. “And?”

Shiro pulled off his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. “A little bit convoluted, but I think I understand the basics.” Lance nodded once more, propping his elbows up onto the table and cupping his cheeks with his hands, keen on listening a bit more attentively. He was trying to visually tell Shiro he was interested in what he had to say. Shiro got the cue. “Avani are the majority species of Gartanor. It's not explained where they come from, but they were born from the corpses of the previous population, and some other alien species.” Shiro took a breath to continue talking. Talking without breathing was still weird to him. “Otopa are rare, and turn before dying, which is why you still seem living.” Lance slowly nodded in understanding. “They can’t really denote any major differences apart from the pulse and the scent. Though they have theories. I haven't gotten that far into the books.”

Lance swung his legs back and forth. “Well, tell me if you find out anything cool.” It was Shiro’s turn to nod. He returned to reading his book. Lance sat with him, staring around rather bored. He kept occasionally glancing back to Shiro. He looked adorable in glasses. Did he have a glasses thing? He had a glasses thing. Of course, he had a glasses thing god like just put glasses on anyone and he would find them 100% more appealing. His attention was drawn away by the sound of beeping. Shiro turned around, headed to go get whatever it was. The washer or dryer, Lance assumed. He raised a hand, telling Shiro to stop. “I'll get it. Keep reading.” 

Shiro sat himself back in his chair and went back to reading. Lance ran off to the room he knew was the laundry room. So it had been the dryer. He folded up the clothes, and ran up the two flights of stairs. He decided to get changed. He had an idea. Dressed, he made his way back downstairs and slipped on his sneakers. Shiro raised his eyes from his book.

“Lance, where are you going?”

“Reconnaissance. Gonna talk to the people around here, see if I can get anything out of them.” He chirped. He opened the door, and not two steps out, he heard Shiro call out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

Shiro looked down, attempting to will himself to say it. He looked back up, making direct eye contact with Lance. “Be safe.” 

Lance tried his best not to flush, which came out haughtier than anything. “Oh my gosh Shiro, what are you, my mother? I'll be safe. Trust me. Hey, maybe I'll get more info than your books so who knows?” Lance shrugged. And he was babbling. _Shut up Lance._ Shiro frowned. Lance gulped. He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry. I'll be safe.” He closed the door, leaving a slightly shocked Shiro in his wake.

Days were the same for them, Shiro noticed. They had accustomed themselves to routine. To Shiro’s great surprise, Lance had been able to come back with some rather substantial information, nothing fantastic, but a beginning. While Shiro was getting to know the historical, physiological and cultural background of the Gartos, Lance was getting to know the area, the terrain, and the people. From there they could formulate some sort of plan as to what to do. When they could, they would search for the distress beacon. It was taking longer than they had anticipated, and Shiro realized that he slowly began to find himself accustomed to this mundane life, and that Lance had found himself some smiling faces among the crowd, but when they went to sleep, Shiro could see the disheartened and pained look on Lance’s face and the tears he would not shed. Shiro was sure his emotions were starting to be worn on his sleeve as well, as Lance began to pay more attention to him than usual.

They just wanted to get home.

The mundane had begun to get to Shiro, and he found himself bored and restless. When this happened, he began to find himself hyper aware and analytical. The one who had the misfortune of facing this was Lance. Or more like Shiro’s misfortune, seeing as he was the one over analyzing. It started with how Lance’s laugh would echo in his ears. Not the fake laugh he would sometimes give, but the deep laugh he gave when he thought something was funny. Or his flaws, his flaws the rustled Shiro’s feathers and drove him mad at times. Then it was the way he held himself. Shiro realized Lance _often_ had his hands on his hips as if he was trying to strut. He did have the legs to be a model, that was for sure. Then there was the look on his face, or more his tendency to be overly expressive. He would use his hands to talk, so conversations with him were always full of life, despite being surrounded by death. Then his eyes, his noses and finally, his lips. Shiro realized slowly Lance began to fill out every check on his type list.

And that was when Shiro realized he began crushing on Lance.

During their mutual searches, Shiro realized, they were better suited than originally thought, despite the hiccups. As much as it sounded horrible to say, he would have much rather preferred Keith than Lance, originally, on the grounds that he knew Keith better and he knew Keith was able to hold his own in combat without a weapon. Though putting Keith through this fate was something he shook off quite quickly. He was with Lance, and that was that. He would have to make do with the situation and take extra precautions. Since none of their searches were combat related by any means necessary, Lance exceeded his expectations. The guy knew how to be stealthy when it came down to it. He even got annoyed _at Shiro_ a few times because of his ‘lack of stealth’. It almost felt odd. When Shiro inquired _how_ Lance knew all of these methods for sneaking around, he nonchalantly admitted it was due to sneaking out of the Garrison with Hunk to go have fun in the city. Shiro thought that was a bit predictable, but at least bad behaviour came in handy. Shiro knew this first hand anyway.

Though, his arrogance in his abilities could have easily been his folly if Shiro hadn't intervened. While impressed, Lance was still Lance, Shiro realized.

Sometimes they found each other glued together a bit too close for comfort. Some days, Lance would shut up completely, though Shiro wasn't exactly sure why, on others, Lance was a chatterbox. Shiro was about to reprimand him in turn for his lack of stealth, but Lance would slam a hand on Shiro’s mouth and pull him down. Someone would pass, either alone or chatting in a group. Once they were a fair distance away, Lance would let Shiro go with a relieved sigh before becoming a bit hectic in speech and finally saying they should just continue on searching. The distress beacon was rather elusive, but they wanted to make sure of its location before taking a risk and invading upon Regalia’s home. It was best to be thorough with this.

It was another morning. The bookshelf had filled up quickly. Culture, language and history books were placed neatly in order. Each had their own shelf, Lance realized. The collection was vast for such a short amount of time. Wait. How long had they been here? How long had it been? A few weeks? Months? Years? Everything went by the same, it felt more like an eternity, and that left a bitter feeling in his stomach. It was all blending into one. He made his way down the stairs, the second floor a little less empty than its original state. There was a single telescope. It almost felt ironic. It had been given to them as a thank you. He really wasn't sure, but it almost felt more like a punch in the gut than a gesture of gratitude. How time really changes the meaning of objects, you know? Lance took note of Shiro sitting on the high chair, nose crammed into a book, glasses on his person, aiding him in translation. Lance pulled on the other chair, hoisting himself up to the height. There was only a single book on the table this time, and a mug filled with whatever drink they had acquired at the market. It was some weird alien mix of tea and coffee. Lance wasn't sure _how_ , but it was. Shiro had fallen in love with it.

Shiro pulled off his glasses, tired eyes looking up to Lance with a sigh. Over the time they had spent together, Lance had learned Shiro’s eyes had three forms. One that looked like a regular human eye, but with a red pupil and a black iris. Total black eyes and total black with a red circle. The last two were eerie, but only happened when Shiro felt intense emotions or Hunger. Typically he kept his eyes in their first form. According to Shiro, Lance’s eyes did the black thing as well, for the exact same reasons, but his regular eyes seemed to have a glow to them, which gave Lance an eerie aura about him. Truly odd. Shiro ran a hand through his hair, before reaching out to his mug and taking a sip.

“Hey.” Lance greeted.

“Hey.” Shiro rasped. He flipped a page of his book, before giving it a glance and closing it for the day. There was only so much reading he could do in one sitting, and intensive reading was beginning to get on his nerves.

Lance pulled himself up onto the high chair, while Shiro pulled off his glasses, looking down tiredly. This entire situation was beginning to eat them up inside. They searched and searched and searched for the distress beacon, but there was nothing. They even began to consider alternatives to gain communication with their team, but they found nothing. No tech to work with and with no idea of their location radio frequencies were a no go. Neither were the people of any help. Lance spoke of how they were more friendly than informative in the long run. Shiro had learned first hand how intrusive some of their questions were. He remembered one in peculiar when he had gone out alone. It had been a child who pulled him aside and asked if Lance was his significant other. To say the least, it had caught him off guard. He handled it tactfully, but internally he was a mess. Right, it reminded him of his developing attraction. He was glad though he was able to push it aside to work together.

They had come to the conclusion that it was time to search Regalia’s castle. If anything, there could have been something that could help them contact their team. _Anything._ They weren't going to resign themselves to this fate, living for eternity on Gartanor. They had a duty as Paladins of Voltron to defend the universe from threats, and as of now the universe was still at war, so they could not sit by idly and watch as the world burned.

“So…” Lance lifted his gaze to Shiro, who still seemed exhausted, as if he had been up all night reading, which he most likely had. Slowly, Shiro lifted his head. He also seemed faint, as if he hadn't eaten anything recently. Neither of them were peculiarly fond of drinking blood, but… Regalia had been right.

_Stars multiplied before his very eyes, doubles, triples and quadruples. Softly they spun as he felt himself begin to slowly slip. He could see Shiro in the corner, eyes distant, curled in upon himself, nails dug in so deep he had begun to draw blood, but the wounds always closed as quickly as they came. Neither of them were sure how long it had been since Regalia had given them the cup of blood, but it had been awhile. Against their words, they had attempted to survive solely on the vegetation this planet offered. It was filling, but with each passing meal they began to crave more and more. Finally, they found themselves here, miserable and on Death’s door once more._

_Lance wanted to say something, anything before he presumably kicked the bucket. Whatever was on his mind, regrets, loves, and so much more. He cast a glance to Shiro, wondering if he had any final words he would have wanted to say. Maybe a final homage to the Garrison and the biggest fuck you to them in history? He doubted it, but still… No, **no**. They were going to live. Even if he felt like his insides were devouring him, **they were going to live**. _

_There was a knock on the door, once, twice, thrice and finally the sound of it smashing open. Neither of them were sure how long they had been out, but over the next few days they had been watched, making sure they consumed blood as to not repeat their follies. Shiro felt some sort of guilt take him as he was scolded by a neighbouring Otopa, her name was Evita if he remembered correctly. He should have not made such a mistake. He should not have let either Lance or him suffer like this, but it had been so easy to skip… Evita ruffled his hair, telling him to take better care of himself. When she had been a fledgling, she made a similar mistake. All fledglings did this at one point or another. It almost felt like some sort of cruel rite of passage. It didn't make Shiro feel much better. It made him feel as if his stay on this planet would be far more permanent than he had ever imagined._

“Tonight we search the castle.” Lance felt a ball of saliva form in the back of his throat as Shiro tensely spoke the magic words. They had been dancing around this idea for a while. They had searched as much as they could, but there was nothing in sight. They would be walking through the Gates to Hell tonight, for better or for worse. Maybe it was a bit too grand to call Regalia’s home the physical manifestation of hell, but damn Lance felt better thinking of it that way. “What are the schedules tonight?”

Lance closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly, he opened his eyes and looked up to the ceiling. “Well Wutok and Torice are holding their weekly book club in the cafe. Evita, Xylif, Kefgar and the knitting club are holding their knit off, it’s Joe’s bar night, and I’m pretty sure Qwiro is off with their mistress.” Lance enumerated every single event on his fingers. His chair tipped back down with a thud, and looked to Shiro quizzically as he gave Lance a gaze mixed between awe, astonishment and a hint of… fear? Incredulity? He wasn’t really sure. “Hey uh… everything okay?” Maybe even a pinch of love? But god wasn’t that some sort of self-projection to his own emotions. 

Immediately, Shiro recomposed himself, as if the look was never on his face. “Those are some variables accounted for, and the others?”

Lance shrugged. “Sleeping, maybe taking a sneak out? No one is usually out when we are. These people aren’t big on the late-night walks in the moonlight.” He jokingly cooed as he clasped his hands together and made starry eyes.

Shiro frowned. “Focus.”

Lance sent him a sheepish smile. “Right. But seriously, don’t expect this to go apples and bananas. We’ve got this. Have _a little_ faith.” Lance reached across the table to pat Shiro’s arm in reassurance, but it did nothing. Lance awkwardly pulled back, feeling as if he reacted badly to the moment.

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need you to take this seriously Lance. We are infiltrating the home of the leader of this community, unarmed.” Shiro sent Lance a glare as he smirked at the mention of ‘unarmed’. “This is what I mean.”

Lance raised his hands in frustration. “Look, I'm trying here! You aren't exactly using your words to tell me what you want.” 

“Professionalism.” Shiro declared. “I want professionalism.”

“Excuse you, I'm completely professional!” He retorted, a bit over-dramatically, the offence.

“You're childish. You've overstepped your bounds, during stealth missions, almost blown out cover by telling me off—”

“I saved your big butt from getting spotted!” Lance exclaimed.

“Flirted with many of the Gartos, and almost exposing our plans.” Shiro concluded, giving Lance the stink eye for being cut off. Despite his crush on Lance, he was not turning an eye to his flaws. He knew fairly well of some flaws, and _he saw potential._ Potential to be someone far, far better. He heard the giggling coming from the outside, from the Gartos he frequented for information, sometimes bordering on flirting. He knew of Lance’s slips, and missteps. He knew of his arrogance, almost getting them caught, but going with him nonetheless.

“Are you—Are you treating this like a Nyma situation?” Lance asked incredulously.

Shiro blinked, taken aback. “No. I’m saying your attitude is inappropriate—”

Lance raised a hand, cutting Shiro off. He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a minute to process this. “Okay, Mr. ‘Not treating this like a Nyma situation’, I am flirting because I _flirt_ to get _information_. If I didn't get chatty with the gossip girls in town, _I wouldn't know half of the information we have._ ” Lance accentuated the importance on the flirtation for information. Flirting was Lance’s trademark. His go to for anything. It's all he knew and he knew how to work it for better or for worse. Flirting for pickups were never his forte, flirting for information _somehow_ always went his way. He didn't know how. He didn't want to question _how_. It did and he thanked god every day for that. “What about you?”

Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, _you_.” Lance continued on. “You’re paranoid. You don't sleep and you're _obsessed_ with leaving here.” He gestured wildly. “And not just the regular, healthy kind either.”

“I am not obsessed. We need to return to Voltron as soon as we can. Without us, they're sitting ducks for Zarkon.” Shiro put it rather bluntly. “I care what happens to my team, Lance.”

“I _am_ part of your team.” Lance snarled. “And right now I'm the only other member you’ve got. So what if I'm childish? I'm dealing with this the best I can. At least I'm not distancing myself from my team.” The jab stung, and as soon as the words left Lance’s mouth, the low blow was too late to take back.

“ _What?_ ” Shiro hissed, but it was cold and calm.

“Don't think I haven't noticed how you gravitate towards Pidge and Keith. I get it, they're anchors to your past yadda yadda, but me and Hunk? We exist. Sometimes a little hi, how are you, nice day today guys? Would be nice.” Lance sneered. 

“You're brash. You poke buttons that shouldn't be poked. You enjoy provocation and frustration. You purposefully anger Keith for a reaction and edge him on, for better _and_ for worse. You're angry and petty and irresponsible. It's almost as if everything to you is one big joke. You're impulsive and you don't think of the consequences to your actions.” Shiro rebutted. “And you just proved my point by blowing this argument out of proportion and reacting defensively to the smallest of criticism.”

“Well you could have stopped this at any time!” 

They stared one another down, neither ready to crumble to this battle of wills. Neither of them were happy, and both were obviously tense. Maybe it was the stress finally making everything bubble to the surface for once and for all, unfiltered and cruel. Both of them had hit strong cords, cutting open wounds neither of them wished to ever be open raw for all to see. Lance could see the cold hurt in Shiro’s eyes, not expecting him to have gone so far, but should have known better. In return, Shiro could see the wet frustration and anger in Lance’s eyes, tears that weren’t willing to fall, not expecting to be seen through so transparently. Neither of them had wanted this, but… maybe it had really been unavoidable? They had been doing so well, but in the end, Shiro remembered, her barely knew Lance. For what they had done on the whim, it was impressive they hadn’t been caught sooner.

There was a pause. Shiro felt himself begin to feel faint, but he didn’t let that deter him. He stared Lance down, feeling the silence oppressing both of them. Suddenly, Lance looked down and bit his lower lip. Shiro’s gaze shifted from a glare to a stare, wondering what this development was about.

“Okay, you’ve got me.” His voice sounded weak, almost very uncharacteristically Lance. Shiro didn’t like it. It was faint, as if it could blend into the wind itself or be drowned out by the crashing waves. “You got me. I’m petty, I’m defensive, and I’m a horrible person.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. No. He knew what was going on here. Or unintentionally doing. Still, _Shiro didn’t like it_. He didn’t like a single second of it. Lance looked up, and seeing Shiro’s mildly horrified and concerned look clued him in on something. “Did I do that thing again? God Cora kept telling me I do this thing and—God _I’m doing it again_.” He clutched his head in his hands, bringing it down to the table and laying it there. Shiro eyed every second of it, wondering exactly what was going on. He heard a large breath being inhaled and slowly exhaled. _Use my words_ , Shiro heard Lance mutter to himself, _use my words._ His voice was still small, so, so small. Slowly, Lance raised his head. He looked to Shiro, opened his mouth, and let it hang, as if the words were on the tip of his tongue, but _they wouldn’t come_. It was as if he had a million things to say, but had no idea where to even start. Shiro could wait. He could… he could wait. 

It took some times, but, finally, Lance figured out where to start. Hopefully, Lance could rise to Shiro’s expectations. Hopefully Shiro could be proven wrong. “Look—I just—Sorry. I want to… I want to apologize, for being a…” He trailed off, voice caught in his throat, hoping Shiro could be able to read his mind and understand everything he was miserably trying to convey to him in this very moment.

“A…?” Shiro asked, an eyebrow raised, willing him to continue on. 

“A dick.” Lance gulped hard, as if the word ‘dick’ was acid on his tongue. “I said some pretty harsh things, some pretty uncalled for things, I know that… And I’ve been _trying_ to work on it. But every time. Every time I see—” Lance bit his tongue and clenched his eyes, cutting himself off before he said something more that could throw them all the way back to step one. “It’s been hard on me, and I act childishly as a response, and I poke buttons, and I start fights to make myself feel better.” He enumerated. “My point—” he swallowed whatever saliva had formed in his mouth. “My point is that… you're still my hero, despite your flaws and I still respect you, but I want to be treated like a person that matters. Despite all of my flaws.” It sounded as if it took a lot of willpower to be honest, and not cover it up and make things far, far worse. Lance realized: it was time to be honest. Even if he didn't like it—he didn't like the feeling of ripping himself open, evaluating himself from an outsider's perspective and realizing he was mad at _himself._ He was stuck here with Shiro. He was going to face it one day. Face it now, get it over with, move on.

Lance cautiously eyed Shiro as he mulled the information over. Shiro felt his head began to spin, and not just from Lance’s words.

He could say Lance had exceeded his expectations, and Lance’s words had taken him a bit by surprise. It took some courage to be able to evaluate oneself and know what was wrong. Something that he must have worked on in the past. He had mentioned someone. Cora? Shiro had mostly just been disappointed at Lance, but some of his words… despite what Shiro wanted to think… Some things that Lance had said were true. As a leader he _could_ have done better. He _should_ have done better. The effort to get to know his team. Not just Pidge and Keith, but Lance, Hunk and even Allura and Coran. He barely knew much about them because his free time was never spent bonding with his team, unless you count those original team bonding exercises they had done to form Voltron. What did he know about his team, when he thought about it? They were five people from Earth and two aliens from a destroyed planet. He knew things about Coran because Coran enjoyed chattering, but Allura was a mystery. And who were Hunk and Lance to him but his pillars of support? All he knew of Hunk was what he knew from Pidge, and all he knew of Lance, before Gartanor, was through his interactions with Keith. As a leader, he almost felt like a failure.

“You're right.” Shiro said softly.

Lance looked to him, surprised. “Wait. I am?”

Shiro nodded. “I should have given you the time of day. And Hunk, and Allura and Coran too.” Lance looked a bit baffled, not actually expecting to have been right. He had just been angry and trying to find anything to cover himself. “That doesn't mean this is in the past.” Lance lowered his head, a bit submissive and hurt. He hadn't been expecting anything less. “But we can move forward from this. We can _both_ learn from this.” Shiro watched as Lance raised his head, his eyes having a tiny twinkle of hope. 

“You mean that?” Even his voice had a small tinge of hopefulness to it, despite his raspiness from the previous yelling match.

Shiro nodded. And sent him a smile. Lance’s smile grew brighter, far, far brighter and Shiro could begin to feel his heart melt. He was still mad and hurt from their yelling match, and he was sure Lance was too, but Lance’s smile somehow made him a bit hopeful for something far, far better than what he had just experienced. Suddenly, he thought back to something Lance had said.

“What did you mean by me being obsessive?” He hoped this was okay to ask. They seemed to have both calmed down. Lance looked to Shiro awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.

“Well, you see—” He laughed awkwardly, looking to the ground, not willing to make eye contact with Shiro. “You kind of sort of have been none stop trying to find a way to leave. Like I can understand it being like top priority but like…” Lance raised his eyes to Shiro’s, he flinched when he saw the black and red, “it's all you've been doing, non-stop. Every morning I see you reading books and drinking,” he flailed his hands in the direction of Shiro’s drink, “whatever that is, and you do it all day. No breaks. Well, more like actual breaks. Pauses don't count. And then we go out to snoop. It's kind of like how you trained non-stop or how you’d focus on one thing and that one thing only like it was…” there was a look of realization on Lance’s face. Shiro raised an eyebrow. “…more important than your own life.”

Maybe he shouldn't have asked Lance what he meant by obsessive, because the newfound look Lance was sending him was making him rather uncomfortable, like he was a new book that had finally been released. He would've preferred the yelling match at this moment if he was being frank. He held his head in his hands. He realized how now his metallic arm was as cool as his human arm. It was horrifying to think of. Slowly, he felt like his stomach was trying to slowly eat him from the inside, and involuntarily he began to shake. Shiro heard the sound of a chair clattering and the rushing of footsteps. Of course. He had forgotten to eat. Of course. _Of course._  

“I'm childish and you’re stubborn. We're like a match made in heaven.” Shiro heard Lance mutter as he tried to get him to drink some blood. It must have most likely spoken to himself, not for Shiro to hear, as he had spoken it so lowly. Downing the glass of golden liquid, Shiro felt his strengths coming back to him, despite the persistent shaking. 

Lance held Shiro in his arms until he ceased quaking, and further until he regained his bearings. When Shiro coughed to signal he was okay, Lance had not taken the cue to let him go. It took him a bit, but Lance begrudgingly let go of Shiro. Shiro looked down, imagining his fluttering heart, but forgetting he no longer held a pulse. It was so weird. He held all of the same reactions, but lacked all of its human nature. He was still affected by his Hunger, though the second time around took him far less longer to bounce back from. He didn't want to make this a habit. He didn't also want to give Lance the habit of looking at him with sad, worried eyes. He didn't need that. He didn't need to feel as if he was being pitied. “Are we good?” Shiro asked cautiously. Lance looked up to him, the pity being left behind for bright joy.

“We’re as good as day.” He grinned, giving him a thumbs up. “Maybe we should yell at each other more often if we can get this out of it.” Lance mused to himself. He could see Shiro roll his eyes. “I'm kidding.” Lance added.

“I know.” Shiro crossed his legs, still a bit unamused, but feeling better after all of that. It was good to know they could come from that and move forward. “But I would prefer mutual communication in a safe environment than almost killing each other with insults—Don't.” Shiro glared at Lance, a finger resting on Lance’s lips as he had risen, eyes wide and bright to retort the killing comment Shiro had made. Lance deflated as he sat back down in his seat. Shiro brought his arms back and clasped his mug. “You can't kill what’s already dead.” He sent Lance a lopsided grin as he began to sip his drink. Lance looked at him aghast, mouth slightly ajar. It was a good thing Shiro was drinking his coffee-tea alien mix or he would be snickering. Lance did not need to know he could snicker. Not yet. Or meme for that matter. How would the poor boy react with such knowledge? Shiro rose from where he sat, put his mug in the sink and decided to dress himself for the day. On the steps, he turned back to Lance. “Remember, we search the castle tonight.” He continued his way up the stairs to the third floor.

Shiro wasn't sure how long it took Lance to process everything, but not two moments later, all he could hear from two stories down was: “ _Shiro what the heck?_ ” And all Shiro could do was grin.

 

 


	4. You fooled around and feel in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, correcting this in my correction software
> 
> my software : this is an unknown canadian spelling
> 
> me: i d c
> 
> tfw u write smth a certain way for so long u just. don't care bc it's grammatically correct in another english. (also why i write movements as "mouvements" bc im just so used to being in french 24/7)

The night cycle on Gartanor had always been quiet. It was also the only time Shiro had been able to sleep, until he found methods of forcefully keeping himself awake. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. Did he care? No. Would Lance flip if he found out? _Fully_. They bounced from cover to cover, watching as each of Lance’s named variables moved about to their determined locations. First was the book club, followed by the knitting club, finally they saw Joe miserably make his way towards the bar. They waited patiently, Shiro with his arm raised while Lance was huddled behind him, peering out curiously. 

“I don't see Qwiro.” Shiro hushed to Lance. Shiro swept the street. Still no giant alien monster in sight. All he could see was another giant moth looking alone waiting patiently beneath a streetlight. Lance peered out a bit farther, catching sight of the moth alien. “That’s Jesus. That’s Qwiro’s mistress.” Shiro had to do a double take, staring Lance down, asking if he was completely serious. Lance looked to him confused, wondering what was up. 

“The moth alien’s name is Jesus?” He deadpanned.

Lance hushed him and pulled him back as a figure stepped forward. Qwiro. They took Jesus’ hand, looking around carefully, they walked out of sight, into the darkness to do who knows what. Shiro did not want to know. Lance sighed, relieved. He looked up to Shiro, a bright smile on his face. “See, a bit of faith.” He smirked.

“ _Lance._ ” Shiro groaned.

Lance’s smiled dropped. “Oh right, sorry.” He ducked out again, over Shiro’s lap once more. He took a sweep of the area and pulled back to make eye contact with Shiro. “Coast’s clear.” Shiro nodded, and they continued forward.

Maybe it was luck of the draw, or maybe they really had planned well, as they avoided all the people they had crossed during their trek to the castle. Though while there were a minimal amount of people, the walk to the castle was rather long. Now, at the foot of the castle, the real mission began. Their first issue: getting in. 

“Maybe we should have planned a bit more ahead.” Lance whispered to Shiro, but Shiro had a vague understanding of the layout already. It was straight forward really, almost like the castleship. Torches illuminated the way, and small colour-coded lines were traced along the walls. It wouldn't be too hard to get lost in. Shiro turned to Lance and placed himself in a kneeling position, hands held firmly together to give him a boost over the wall. Lance looked to Shiro’s hands nervously, not really liking the idea of being propelled over the wall. 

“Everything will be fine.” Shiro hushed. “Have a bit of faith.” He sent him a small smile, but the look Lance was giving him—pursed lips, nostrils flaring for a brief second and eyes lowering into a glare—was the response he had been expecting. Taking a steadying breath, Lance calmed his nerves and allowed himself to be pushed over the fence and… floating into the sky. So high up that he had reached a fourth-story balcony and desperately made his way to safety. Everything was still fine. Maybe the look of pure fear Lance was giving him wasn't so fine, but hey he was still okay and he even got into the castle. Bonus. 

“ _Shiro what the cheese.”_ Lance gritted through his teeth, obviously not having expected the sudden flight and still a bit petrified from the experience. Shiro placed a finger above his mouth, telling him to quiet down. It was quiet outside and Lance’s voice could easily travel. Lance made a dismissive hand gesture, but he obviously was still not pleased with what had just happened. 

Okay, now it was Shiro’s turn. He didn't have any idea how he was going to make it to where Lance had been, but at least he could get himself over the wall with a running leap. And then he was in the air, flying closer and closer to Lance’s destination. That, by all means, he had not expected. He prepared for a crash landing, but his landing was more of a crash and less of a landing. A literal crash onto Lance anyway. The landing was not the best, but at least they had not smashed faces. Using his arms, he was barely centimetres away from Lance’s face, who was still rather frazzled by the entire experience. He looked up, catching Shiro’s gaze. His eyes were about as vast as the universe, as dark and as glittering. Lance coughed, finally catching Shiro’s attention. Shiro had been processing the entire scene, going through multiple scenarios, potential apologizes and… other things that were inappropriate, considering what had happened hours prior. Couldn't blame him though, his eyes were so blue and gosh he could just lose himself in them. Giving Lance an apologetic look, he pulled away, giving him a curt apology.

“Dude it's cool.” Lance seemed distracted as he looked around. He finally turned back to Shiro, eyes as wide as saucers. “What was that? We were like—we flied!” He exclaimed excitedly, a bit inappropriate for the moment. 

Shiro shook his head. “I don't know.” He gave a sweep of the area. No one. “We should get going before anyone catches us out here.” Lance nodded, and they carefully made their way inside the castle. The room they entered was small, almost as if it were some sort of boudoir. There was a mirror, with a desk beneath it. Upon the desk was a variety of knickknacks, from paperweights to letter openers. They all had a bluish sheen to them, all reflected in the moonlight. Unlike the castleship, Shiro was quite glad this castle did not have lights that turned on automatically as they walked around. Neither was seeing in the dark an issue for them when they became vampires. Seeing in the dark was as clear as day. Following the colour coded path would not be an issue for them. What could be an issue though, Shiro quickly realized, were servants or guards. Shiro grabbed the back of Lance’s shirt and pulled him aside as footsteps neared their location. Two chatting figures crossed the hall, holding scrolls and books, so much so that they fumbled and giggled as they walked. The two rounded the corner, and once so, Shiro let go of Lance’s jacket. 

“So, we can cross whatever’s back there off.” Lance hushed, looking back to where the pair had rounded to corner. Shiro nodded, for now the assumption seemed adequate.

“Let's go. Follow the pink line.” Lance nodded, and they continued on their way.

They didn't pass many others. Typically, it was one to two people, either chatting or transporting things around the castle. They had made their way around from the fourth floor, to the third floor, the second floor and the ground floor, but there had been nothing. Not in a single one of the locations they had checked had they found the beacon. They didn't want to think it was a lost cause. Lance remembered, for the merpeople, Queen Luxia’s beacon had been in her castle. It was a bit stupid to assume completely different cultures had similarities, but from a hypothetical point of view, would leaders not keep their beacons somewhere close for them to activate when need be? It would be a hassle to run back and forth to a remote location far away from where you were currently needed, or Shiro assumed. 

“Hey.” Lance tapped his shoulder, pulling Shiro’s attention to where he was staring. The blue paladin was pointing to a darker location, where it seemed a small path entrance was. They could see edges of glowing light in the distance. “We haven't checked in there.” Shiro looked to it cautiously. It screamed ominous and ‘first death in a horror movie’, but from the standpoint of a horror movie, they were the monsters. Really, at this point there wasn't really even a harm. He slowly approached the entrance to take a peek down. The glowing light softly grew more pronounced. It was violet in hue, bright and glaring in the eyes. Lance turned his head to Shiro, his eyes telling him he wanted to go in and check the place. He wouldn't be satisfied if they didn't. Shiro conceded, and followed along behind Lance. The light grew brighter and brighter as they made their way through the hall. There wasn't much to the hall, but a stereotypically narrow hall. It was boring apart from the reflections of light. The hallway lead into a small alcove, round and circular, the ceiling rising high, the ceiling being a skylight. They could see the stars above, where their team was. In the centre of the room, there it laid: the beacon. They quickly went to work, fiddling with it to turn it on. They could finally get home. Hopefully someone, _anyone_ on the castleship would see them, would come back around and find them. All they could do now was wait. 

“ _You fools._ ” A familiar voice hissed. They turned in the direction of the hall where a small figure stood, dressed in a glowing nightgown. Their eyes were furrowed into a snarling glare. Their anger was obvious, palpable in the air even. “I had been wondering why neither of you had not asked for the communicator Princess Allura had given to me as a sign of the Voltron alliance.” Regalia moved forward, holding a small communicator with the emblem of Voltron. “You have no _idea_ what you have just _done_.” They hissed.

Lance's eyes were wide. There had been a communicator. They moved out of the way as Regalia marched forward, turning off the beacon. They pocketed the Voltron communicator before both of their very eyes, most likely to never be seen again. “Had you asked, I would have given.” Regalia said dryly. They were not pleased with their actions. Who would be though? They had broken into their home, sneaked around and opened up a beacon without their permission. When they could have asked all along. “Now… Now the Galra may see this as a sign of weakness. I…” Regalia muttered, obviously not meant for their ears.  

Shiro realized that he had made another grave failure. How could he have forgotten? It was in the past. He had forgotten. Now he was paying the price for not only that, but the lack of trust they had placed in Regalia, who would have been potentially willing to allow them to contact their friends, _had they only just asked._ He truly felt like a fool. The Gartos Leader had all the right to call them a fool, glare and give them the silent treatment as they dismantled the beacon. As soon as the transmission came on, it came off, leaving nothing more than a blinking light in its wake, too slow for any of their team to potentially even catch or consider investigating.

“Go home. The both of you.” Regalia ordered, their voice controlled, despite the underlying fury. 

Shiro lifted his hand, ready to move forward and begin his apology to them. Sensing this, Regalia snarled in return. “Go! I will deal with you later.” Seeing as they had made no sign of leaving, Regalia’s eyes narrowed even further. “ ** _Now!_** ” They exclaimed, flailing their arm in a circular motion, telling the two Paladins to leave. Shiro attempted to persist, but Lance grabbed his arm, grounding him. There was nothing more they could do. They both looked back to Regalia, before leaving them alone in the circular room.

The walk back to their home had been a walk of shame. The two in silence, Shiro contemplating it all and kicking himself mentally for his foolishness, while Lance only gave him worried glances the entire way back. Shiro did not sleep, only staring blankly towards the wall, going over how all of this could have gone differently in his head. Possibilities, probabilities, the coulda, the woulda and the shoulda. It was an almost annoying mantra at this point. The room was blank, save for the telescope. He could easily think back to when he had been a child with his homemade telescope, horrible and childish, but filled with his passion for space. God if young him could see him now… 

Lance walked past the room on the second floor, seeing Shiro run his hand through his hair, bringing it down between his legs, staring at them with the look of a dead fish. The floorboards creaked as he peered in, but Shiro heard nothing. Lance hesitated, hand lingering on the doorframe, but he let go and allowed himself to march up the stairs. The house was eerily silent. He didn't like it. He had _never_ liked it. He missed the screaming, the yelling, the occasional crashing and the barking. He loved noise! Now everything was eerily silent; dead. Lance looked at the blanket on the oversized bed. Despite sharing a bed with Shiro, there was no sound. No snoring, no breathing, no heartbeat. It wasn't warm. Shiro was deathly cold. Lance was the only passable source of warmth around, apart from the blanket.

He had an idea. Grabbing the blanket and tugging it off the bed, he pulled it along behind him, making his way down the stairs and to the second-floor room where Shiro brooded. A _broodwoir_ , one could say. Lance knocked, but Shiro did not respond. He moved forward into the room, the floorboards creaking heavily. Slowly, Lance draped the blanket around Shiro and himself. Shiro looked up to him to Lance, as if awoken from an internal monologue repeating for eternity.

“Sleeping alone’s kinda lonely.” Lance sent him a reassuring grin. Shiro’s face softened into a smile. He rose from where he sat on the chair and positioned himself in a way that he was wrapped comfortably in the blanket and leaning on Lance, but not crushing the guy under his weight. It was nice… looking up the stars, hearing the soothing sound of breathing, despite an irregular heartbeat, and the warmth the blanket provided him. He felt his eyes began to flutter, heavier and heavier with each passing blink. He felt his head rest into the crook of Lance’s neck and a warm, if not a bit creamy, sensation on his forehead. Oh. Lance had just… with a final blink, he finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Pidge never enjoyed coming to this planet, and coming alone made her experience ten times worse. Her lion was stealthy, always would be since she tampered with it, and the cloaking device aided her descent down onto the planet. The trees, or what she presumed were trees, bristled as she landed. Exiting her lion, she could see glowing flowers everywhere, and she had to hold back a sob. It still hurt. It still hurt so much. It wasn't time for that though. The Gartos had sent out a distress beacon, and as a paladin of Voltron, she would assess the situation, and call in backup if need be. Allura and Coran were going to bite her head off, but it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission in her opinion. She could hear Green purr in the back of her mind. While she was curious, her lion did not find comfort on this planet. At least they had something more in common.

She fiddled with her visor on her helmet, seeing as she was in full paladin wear, to see if there was some sort of night vision mode. While it was bright out, and she could see okay enough, she wasn't about to settle for okay enough, she wanted great, astounding, amazing and fantastic. She wasn't here for second fiddle today. No, Pidge was here on business. Tapping through a few settings, accidentally getting a video feed from Hunk’s room, who was still sound asleep bless his heart, and a few other features she would _absolutely_ find out their purpose for later, she finally found the night vision. You know maybe night vision wasn't a great idea because everything now looked like some sort of paranormal activity movie and she was not going to have this. Nope. No ghosts, not today. _Especially not the ghosts of her teammates_.

She held her bayard closely, and turned back to her lion. Green’s particle barrier went up, and she felt safe enough hiding her in the greenery. Ha. Greenery. She shook her head. _Right, business._ She looked to the path in front of her, glistening in the moonlight of the three moons, and the glow of the luminescent flowers. It almost felt like some sort of fantastic movie, if not for the fact she still felt like she was the star of some found-footage movie. Her life felt like a shit b-list movie anyway. Or maybe A-list? Pidge shook her head. _Focus._ She muttered to herself.

She made her way down the path, keeping her eyes peeled for all movements. She’d need to be ready to stun and run if the enemies were too much to handle. She wasn't a pro like Shiro was— _had been_ , she corrected herself. He was dead. God coming to this planet had been a terrible idea. She bit her lips, eating the skin in an attempt to distract herself. God her anxiety was horrible and her lips were going to be a mess tomorrow. Bloody and scabbed. Rustling in the bushes drew her attention away from her musing. She hadn't noticed, but she had come up to a… town? It seemed to be a town. She didn't peculiarly remember this. She heard rustling once more, but noted it was from figures a distance away, quickly coming her direction. She looked around and hid in the bushes. Who knew if they were friend or foe? She kept her eyes peeled as the figures passed. She had to hold back her gasp as she saw the figures pass. No. No, no. She watched them make their way into the distance, solemn looks on their faces. There had been no chatter, no life, Pidge had only found dead resignation.

Lance and Shiro, _people she knew dead for a fact, not a bullshit conspiracy with no proof, **had been walking before her, alive, well, breathing.**_ She wasn't sure what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Joy? Then the doubt settled in. Were they imposters? Had it really been Shiro and Lance why had they not contacted them sooner? Their vitals had come up as dead. They checked, double checked and triple checked. She knew this for a fact. Keith had been so adamant. He didn't want to believe it. Neither had she. All she could do was look lost as another person was taken from her, and this time permanently. _And yet he was here. **They were both here**_. She felt her stomach lurch.

A hand placed itself upon her shoulder, panicked, Pidge turned around, bayard raised for attack. She felt herself flip to the ground with a thud, looking up to the sky, and dark, dark eyes. They were not those of Regalia, but of another Garto. She had no idea who it was. The Garto seemed a bit shocked, and quickly added Pidge to her feet. “Oh my, Green Paladin of Voltron, forgive me. I thought you were a Galra soldier.” The Garto gave her a deep bow, leaving Pidge a bit confused. A beat and greet? Also, why would she be confused for a Galra soldier. She was like? The total opposite of a Galra. For one, they were tall—Keith is an outlier and half-Galra; does not count—and she was small. For 2, _she was like super small._

“Uh, you're forgiven…?” Pidge looked to her awkwardly, as she rose from her bowing position. “Has there been a Galra attack? Everything seems normal.” Pidge looked around. As normal as it could be anyway after seeing dead people walking.

“No, but the distress beacon had been activated with no causation. I was about to see Regalia about it.” The Garto pulled back a stray strand of frizzy hair into her falling bun. The Garto extended her hand. “Pardon, for having you to make your way out here. My name is Evita.”

“Pidge.” She took the Garto’s handshake. Curt and brief. “Is it alright if I tag along?” Evita made a curtsy motion of acknowledgement. God Pidge felt so awkward with the formality.

“If you must. The Castle isn't far from here.” Evita pointed to the distance, where a large structure, made of what seemed to be interwoven bone, stood. Okay Pidge didn't like this already. She had never actually _seen_ Regalia’s castle. All she knew was that the leader of the Gartos looked like a child, but hey she too looked like a child so she wasn't here to judge that. Pidge followed behind Evita, glancing back occasionally to where she had seen Shiro and Lance walking. _Walking, living, breathing **and Pidge was praying to god it wasn't some paranormal activity bullshit.**_

Evita gave quick looks to Pidge, curiously wondering what she was staring at. It was eerily silent, nothing but the sound of the wind, or what she assumed was wind anyway, blew the leaves of the trees. It almost felt like Earth, if Earth was purple instead of blue. “Mind not my curiosity, but have come to see your fellows or…?” That was rather odd. Pidge looked to Evita curiously, catching her look, Evita dropped her expression completely. “Never mind what I have said.” Odd. Pidge raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was just an alien culture thing but they sure acted and sounded like humans. So did the Alteans, and yet she was faced with the differences every time there was maintenance to be done on the castle and she and Hunk screamed about not knowing Altean.

“I caught the distress beacon you sent.” Pidge leaned to the side, but Evita had lowered her gaze. Pidge caught a glimpse, biting her lips in anxiousness with what appeared to be fangs and the eyes of a monster. She almost felt like they were in sort of horror movie. Maybe a vampire movie? Soon Evita stopped, she turned back to Pidge, no longer any sort of emotions on her face. All this Garto demonstrated was a feeling of neutrality.

“We’ve arrived.” She pushed open a Gothic-esque gate, the sound of grinding metal accompanied the gesture. Pidge followed Evita upon the path, stones glowing beneath her feet with each step. While it seemed spooky from afar, it was almost magical up close. Glowing flowers, glowing stones, and so much more glow. It was like there was almost an aesthetic going on. Inside the castle, the lights were on, lighting everything in a cornflower hue. Evita pulled someone aside, asking for Regalia, and the servant pointed Evita in a direction. Evita turned to Pidge and with a wave of her hand, gestured for the Green Paladin to follow. She still didn't like any of this, but she complied nonetheless.

They accessed a long hall, where the light at the end grew progressively brighter, and at the end stood its shining star, the leader of the Gartos, Regalia. Evita gave a bow in a sign of respect, Pidge only stared at the foreign leader. Regalia raised a hand, relieving Evita from her curtsy. “No need for formalities.” Was all Regalia said. They held a shawl wrapped around their slender frame. The atmosphere almost seemed tense, and their face shuffled between a sneer and belittlement. It was almost as if there was a furious battle within the leader, one neither Pidge nor Evita were privy to. 

“Thank you.” Evita relaxed a bit. She smiled, but her smile slowly shifted to curious worry. “Is there a reason the beacon had gone off earlier?”

“Foolishness.” Regalia muttered bitterly, eyes flashing dangerously, eyes narrowed. “My own and that of the fledglings.”

Fledglings?

Evita raised an eyebrow. “Lance and Shiro?” Evita muttered, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she recoiled, hand glasses tightly above her lips, turning back between Regalia and Pidge with worry. Pidge’s eyes widened, while Regalia only sighed.

Regalia waved their hand dismissively. “It's alright. They activated it to draw their attention. The least we may do is let it play out.” Regalia turned to Pidge, who had moved from shock, to anger, fists clenched and bayard at the ready. 

“What have you done to Lance and Shiro?” She hissed. Evita recoiled from the sound, but Regalia took it all in stride. 

“We killed them.” Regalia said as plain as day, as if it were no big deal. With an angry cry, Pidge raised her bayard, aiming it at the ruler of this land. So, god help her if she didn't get answers she was willing to maim someone. Her bayard ensnared the leader, rendering them immobile.

“ _You tell me the truth right now or I will end you._ ” Pidge gritted her teeth, and she could feel warm tears on the edges of her eyes, ready to run down her cheeks. 

“My people killed them.” Regalia repeated, and the grip around Pidge’s bayard tightened. “But the thing with Gartanor is that all people who live here have been killed by them.” 

Pidge raised an eyebrow, and she felt a calm hand place itself upon her shoulder. She looked up to see Evita’s gaze, sympathetic in its nature. “We die, and rise reborn in these forms. Some are less fortunate, and remain to give back to the world.”

Pidge looked back to Regalia, and recalled her bayard, lowering, before allowing it to vanish completely. She was still furious, and the two Gartos could clearly see that.

“Pardon, I preferred to be frank, as I take action for what my people have done. Some younger Avani hungered for more than the given, and found feast in our new found camaraderie.” Regalia clasped their hands and gave a deep bow of forgiveness towards Pidge, who still found herself awkward about the sudden shift of situation. She was still mad, but she was confused and curious as well. Should she stay may? She was still _incredibly_ mad, so it felt the most appropriate. “If you need a place to stay I’m sure Evita has more than enough rooms to spare.” Regalia pointed to the other Garto, offering up her home so quickly.

“Wait I don—” Pidge raised her hands, attempting to dismiss the offer. She was not about to _sleep_ in the home of one of the people who _murdered_ her boyfriend and close friend. _No fucking way._

“Oh, I'm sure Shiro and Lance will be glad to see you.” Regalia hummed. _The little shit_. Pidge muttered. She watched Regalia smile a Cheshire smile, as if this was some sort of joke to them. Okay Pidge was absolutely mad.

Evita raised an eyebrow, “But aren't Shiro and Lance—” Regalia raised a hand, cutting the Garto off. Regalia shook their head.

“Do not mistake. _I am livid_. But they are human. Foolishly human. I cannot fault them for their nature. I will deal with them another day, for now, allow me to cool down. I would prefer not to maim them until I am able to falsify or validate my fears.” Regalia muttered. Evita nodded, and turned back to Pidge who attempted to understand the conversation, but had no idea of what they were speaking about. To ask for another time, Pidge thought.

“Come on, you can clean up and sleep before we meet your friends tomorrow.” Evita offered as she patted Pidge on the back. Pidge gulped the feeling of insecurity she felt, but she felt better than the first time she had been here. For once, it felt right. Or almost right. Not a positive green, but maybe a teal? She could deal, anyway. _She could deal_. 

When Evita walked Pidge back to her home, Pidge caught a glimpse of her surroundings. It almost looked like the plateau, and she felt reminded of memories from long ago. Someone of the houses had those stairs, long, winding and curling, attempting to make the most of the little room. Some other homes didn't have those stairs that lead up, but lead down instead. Those homes made use of the subterranean space. They were low, but just as roomy. Though that was where the familiarity stopped. The homes themselves resembled Regalia’s castle, but far more colourful, as if the people painted upon them images that tell stories she could never understand. Well, she _could_. Art _is_ up to the interpretation of the consumer after all. Each person derives a different meaning and understanding from the same content. 

The lights floated in the air, softly changing hues, making a soft rainbow, soothing to her nerves. She could see alien creatures floating in the sky, almost like fireflies, but not insects. Actual _flying_ _creatures_ that flowed like fireflies. Not only were there streetlights, there were also garland lights. Floating garland lights that shimmered with each step she took. Maybe all these lights were a bit overkill, but they weren't heavy. No, in fact they almost seemed like they were dimmers on their lowest setting, as she could clearly see the sky. There was minimal light pollution. She really had to say maybe it was just alien tech? It probably was alien tech. Alien tech she was going to get her grubby little hands on as payment for withholding information that they had _murdered the Black Paladin and Blue Paladin of Voltron, but oh whoops turned out they came back from the dead and we didn't tell the Paladins_. Yeah, the tech was the least they could do.

Evita unlocked the door to a smaller building, one where the stairs went up, unlike their neighbour, whose went downwards. Evita switched on the lights, and turned back to Pidge, her eyes no longer pitch black, but much like her own, but with a glow to them. “Make yourself at home.” She gestured. Evita made her way towards the stairs, most likely where her room was, and stopped, turning back to Pidge. “Just one thing, even _if_ you try to kill me in my sleep, it's gonna take more than your…” she mimicked Pidge’s bayard, “take me out.” She grinned. “Night!” With that, she left. Leaving Pidge alone. 

Pidge looked around. The living quarters were quaint. It looked like a small flat, one and all living quarters. There was a small couch, with what she could only assume was a TV in the corner, across from what she assumed was the kitchen? Evita wasn't exactly human in appearance like the Alteans, and not like some of the Gartos she saw. It was a weird layout. She walked around, taking in things curiously. Then she found it, a book. _A book with pictures._ She could work with this. Pidge looked around, and grabbed another picture book, and another, and another, until she had a pile of books piling up around her on the sofa where she crashed for the night.

The next morning, she awoke to her nose in a book and the sound of a whistling kettle. Pidge slowly rose from where she had perched herself and searched for the offending sound that had awoken her from her slumber. “You know, when I said make yourself at home… I didn't mean this.” Pidge jumped when she saw Evita sitting at the table, a cup of golden liquid in a clear glass, another mug, and two plates with food upon them. Evita snickered, and in the new found light Pidge got a better glimpse of her. Yes, she was in fact very different from the others. While she had hair, kinky in its nature, and similar to Allura in style when not tied up, she had an animalistic face, almost that of a cat, but her arms were covered in feathers, and she was sure she could see wings. “You're lucky I'm an Otopa, made you some food.” 

Pidge pulled herself off the couch and made her way towards the table. She pulled a seat across from Evita, who rose and made her way towards the kettle, taking the mug and pouring some sort of liquid into it. Evita returned, placing the mug at Pidge’s place. It smelt sweet, familiarly sweet. Her plate, though, was foreign. Of course, it would be foreign though, she was on an alien planet. Pidge tentatively poked at the food with her spork. She cautiously piled some onto it and brought it to her mouth. Huh, it tasted okay. Not fantastic, but edible. Evita smiled when Pidge made her surprised face. “I thought you would have much preferred vegetation to Galra blood.” The Otopa said. Pidge nearly choked.

“ _What?_ ”

Evita looked to her surprised, an eyebrow raised. “I was sure Regalia had told Princess Allura that piece of information.” She mused to herself, “Avani and Otopa need blood to survive, but Otopa can live off of food, unlike Avani, but we weaken considerably.” Pidge nodded slowly to her, but still dumbfounded with this new information. “Are you sure you weren't told this?” Evita pushed further.

“Positive.” Pidge gulped. She pushed away her plate, less hungry than she had originally been. What a mood killer really. The Gartos were vampires. Fucking Space Vampires. Wait. Did that make Shiro and Lance…? Holy shit they got turned into _space vampires._

Evita continued her meal, looking curiously to Pidge, wondering if she was okay. Once done, the Otopa cleaned up the dishes, leaving them to soak in the sink. She gestured for Pidge to follow her. They made their way out, but stopped as Evita took her time to give a quick bow to Regalia who exited the neighbouring house. Once gone, they made their way to said home. Evita said to wait a moment as she knocked. Not a moment sooner, a familiar face, to Pidge opened the door. God, she forgot how much she missed those blue eyes. Those wonderfully blue eyes, that now held a glow to them. 

Lance stood at the door, shocked. Pidge ran forward, tackling him into a hug. His heartbeat was irregular and he was a bit cold, _but he wasn't dead. He wasn't gone for good six feet deep._ She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, and the sobs she choked back. “Don't you _dare_ leave me ever _again._ ” She almost screamed. “ ** _Don't you fucking dare._** ” She could feel the tears starting to come down her cheeks. She felt a hand pat her head softly.

“Don't plan on it.” She heard a soft voice whisper back. She tucked her head into the crock of his neck. Trying to muffle the sniffling. The loud and ugly sniffling as her nose ran. God, she felt disgusting and like a mess. 

“I'll be leaving then.” She heard Evita say as the door closed, leaving her alone with Shiro and Lance.

“Pidge, what are you doing here?” Shiro rose from where he sat at the table, glasses on his face. Pidge looked up, eyes wet and face beginning to turn puffy red. He moved forward and kneeled above her. The hand he placed on her cheek was cold, glaringly cold that she would have flinched under normal circumstances and pulled away. These were not normal circumstances.

“Katie.” She croaked. She wasn't undercover anymore. She was tired, she was broken and she was hurt. _All she wanted was to be called Katie and be reassured._ They were alive, and she was bawling her eyes out. She could allow herself the comfort of being called Katie.

Shiro looked down to Lance, then back to Katie. “What are you doing here?” He asked again.

Katie leaned back into Lance’s neck, pulling away from Shiro’s touch. “I saw the distress beacon.” She muttered. Shiro let out a long exhale. So, the castleship had seen it.

“And the others?” He pursued.

She shook her head, looking to the side, avoiding eye contact. “Don't know.”

Shiro closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his noses. Of course, she had come alone. Curious and daring as she was, she wanted to know. She probably thought she was going to leave as soon as she came. Now here they were; the others were probably worried sick about her.

Shiro admitted it, he had been foolish in attempting to contact the others. He tried, _because he could_. He thought maybe they could figure something out, the matter stood, if they couldn't find an alternative to blood, or a self-fabricated solution in an adequate amount of time, they could potentially attack the team. Shiro wasn't willing to be that liability. He didn't want to allow such a variable. He didn't want to find himself as a variable, wondering if today was the day he turned on his friends and murdered them to live. He didn't want to do that, not to Keith: the person who meant so much to him. Not to Allura and Coran: the people who put so much trust into him. Not to Hunk: someone who looked up to him. And not to Katie: the person who would bring them back to the castle in good faith, only to find it being her greatest regret. He didn't want that, he didn't want to even think of that.

“You need to go back.” Shiro finally said. 

Katie looked up to him, slowly, her eyes hollow, as dead as Lance and his were. It broke his heart. “Not unless you come with me.” Her grip around Lance tightened considerably. She wasn't letting go what she just got back. She wasn't saying goodbye. Not again. _Never again._ **_They promised._**

Shiro opened his mouth, ready to say something, knowing fully well he was about to break her heart, but the voice that spoke was not his own. “We can't do that. Sorry.” It was the quietest he had ever heard Lance, and the softest. He softly stroked Katie’s hair, and used his other hand to wipe away her tears.

“ _Why not?_ ” Shiro winced. She sounded so broken. So very broken. She had really thought they had died, hadn't she? Not like Kerberos. No, this was the actual realization of death, and now knowing they were alive, she was grasping onto the straws as strongly as she could.

“We need blood to live, and if we don't get it, we’ll attack you.” The words coming from Lance’s mouth in such a soothing voice sent chills down Shiro’s spine. It almost felt wrong to hear it in such a way. It always felt wrong to hear what they needed to do to survive.

“I can synthesize something.” Katie interjected quickly. She was desperate, so very desperate.

Lance shook his head. “But how long will that take?” Katie bit her lip, looking away. She didn't know. Synthesizing blood still wasn't a thing on Earth. They could easily create fake hearts from those of pigs, or transplant various hands, legs and the what not, but create blood? There had been tests done using stem cells, but…? Maybe with all of this Altean technology they could do something? This would be a feat.

“I'll do it.” She spoke firmly, determined with her new task. “Just let me stay a little longer, _please_.” She sounded so desperate again, clutching tightly onto Lance’s shirt, digging her nails in deep. He was so glad he was wearing a shirt because he could feel how long her nails were and it was doing wonders in tingling his skin. Lance turned his head back to Shiro, inquisitive, almost begging him to agree. It took Shiro a minute, but he finally crumbled to them.

“She can stay.” Shiro turned his eyes back to Katie, who smiled appreciatively. “But you have to go back. They’ll need you.”

“And they need you too.” She barked back. “We've been in shambles since you–you died. Keith’s constantly on edge and I'm pretty sure almost took my head off, Hunk’s been crying, we can all see how upset and destroyed he is. Allura’s cutting herself off from everyone to seem strong, but her red eyes betray her and Coran. God, I've never heard him so broken.” She hushed to herself, recalling the memory.

“Katie…” Lance hushed, petting her hair soothingly.

Katie raised her gaze, making eye contact with Shiro. “We need you guys, okay? Don't forget that.”

Shiro nodded, catching himself from the momentary shock that had overtaken him. “We won't.” 

Katie seemed content with his answer, and turned her head back to Lance. She leaned in, giving him a long kiss. Shiro almost felt as if he had stepped in on a moment, despite being there the entire time. He turned away, cheeks flushed. The kiss was long, and left Lance swooning, star struck and his breath taken away. “I've been meaning to do that since I first saw you.” Katie grinned slyly. 

Shiro coughed, and the couple’s attention was brought back to the situation at hand. Right. Shiro was here. Right. Lance’s cheeks flushed at the realization Shiro had been watching them, and he saw Katie grin mischievously, almost knowing. Little shit knew too much about him he swore to god. Katie rose from where she had been seated on Lance’s lap and pulled him up. She wiped away the stray tears that clung annoyingly to her cheeks, and finally she began to find herself back to some sort of normalcy. Then she saw it, and zeroed in on what had captured her curiosity: Shiro’s glasses.

“Are those?” There were sparkles in her eyes. Shiro knew this was a battle he could not win. In a resigned matter, he handed her the glasses and allowed her fun in examining them with sounds of glee. She squealed and chimed as she discovered the purpose of the glasses and its usage. She was on cloud nine and nothing could take her attention away. Shiro made his way over to Lance, who was looking at Katie fondly. 

“So, you and…?” They turned their gaze back to Katie, who was eagerly flipping through the large tome Shiro had brought with him to the table. He had wanted to read it, before the unexpected visit from Regalia, followed by that of Katie’s.

“I guess? We don't really call each other boyfriend and girlfriend and I don't really…?” He tried to word himself, trying to find a way to say it. “It's just a sort of thing? You know? I'd call her my partner, but not my girlfriend?” Lance sighed. “I'm not making any sense, am I?” 

“It's alright I think… I think I get what you mean.” Lance looked up to Shiro, and the fondness in his face made his heart skip a beat. Lance looked back to Katie, and his heart melted. He was with the two people he wanted to be with. He didn't want this moment to end.

Katie asked to be shown around before she had to leave. She wanted to collect a few books that could aid her in her research. She realized Evita had said Galra blood, making her question if it was possible for them to drink any other sort of blood. Then she began to wonder: could they drink human blood? The question left Shiro and Lance a bit uncomfortable, as Katie eyed them like an experiment. She quickly pulled off her wrist guard and rolled up her sleeves, exposing her skin. She shoved it in their faces.

“Try it.” She urged, but they pushed away. She pouted, but resigned herself. She pulled her sleeve back down. “Fine, but if human blood happens to be easier to synthesize than Galra blood, you're gonna have to try it.” She clasped her wrist brace back on. She grabbed her books, along with the glasses they had acquired for her. It was only three tomes, all she could carry, _for now_. They walked her back to where she had landed Green, and watched as she embarked in her lion. She looked back to Shiro and Lance, and made her way down, giving them a hug. “I'll be back, okay?”

“Be safe.” Shiro smiled fondly to her.

“Kick some butt!” Lance grinned.

Katie looked up to both of them, her eyes bright with determination. She nodded her head. “I will.” She ran back to her lion, waving to the both of them. All she could see as she exited the planet was their form diminishing, as they became nothing more than ants, blending in with the trees of the planet's landscape. She powered the thrusters and made her way back to the castle, a new mission under her belt. 

She could do this. She could bring them home.

Lance covered his mouth with his hand, trying to muffle the sound that escaped his lips, but Shiro heard it nonetheless. He cautiously hovered his hand over Lance’s shoulder, debating if the contact was okay, before slowly putting it down, a bit awkwardly. “Everything okay?”

There was a loud sniffle, as Lance nodded. He was looking up to the sky, the impression of the pressure from the engine still leaving its mark on the clouds. “It hurts seeing someone you never knew you needed leave.” Shiro looked up to the sky. He could relate to that.

“We should head back.” Shiro patted his back, turning around, making his way back to the place he potentially could call home. He didn't like the idea, but in the end, it was.

Lance rubbed his eyes, and turned on his heels. He ran after Shiro. “Hey, do you think I could borrow your glasses? Please?”


	5. 50k slow burn coffee shop au

When Pidge snuck back into the Castleship, none seemed to have been the wiser of her absence, or so she thought anyway. Discreetly, she brought her things back to her room and began her research on her off time. The glasses absolutely came in handy and she fell in love with them. The books were also very insightful. While she had to gloss over historical and cultural context, she found some decent information. It was nice to see societies like this. Species that kept records of their evolution were great. Just so great.

Her stomach, on the other hand, did not appreciate being ignored. Begrudgingly, she put her book down and made her way to grab some disgusting grub on the go. She made her way towards the dispenser when she heard furious footsteps running down the hall. She barely missed Hunk who was making his way down like a bullet train. He skidded to a stop when he almost made contact with Pidge. He panted heavily, holding up a finger telling her to give him a moment. “Allura…needs us…in the hangar.” He breathed out, before grabbing her and dragging her with him. God she felt like her arm almost ripped off.

Allura found herself standing in front of the Black Lion, staring at it intently, before walking to the Blue Lion and glaring at it instead. She did that in a pacing matter, until Coran arrived saying everyone was all here. Allura still seemed distracted with the glaring contest she was having with the Lions. She turned back to her Paladins with a sigh. “I have attempted to bond with the Black Lion, as well as the Blue Lion, but as you can see.” She tapped on the particle barriers that surrounded the Lions. “It seems as if there are some technical difficulties.” Allura sighed.

“That's odd. Why would their barriers be up if…” Coran trailed off. _If there isn't a black or blue paladin._ They all knew what he meant.

“I don't know.” Allura felt herself resign. She didn't know what was going on at all. The Lions weren't letting her in and she was becoming impatient with each passing moment.

“But don't the Lions need their pilot to deactivate their particle barrier?” Hunk asked.

“My quintessence is tied to the Lions. If need arose, I would be able to pilot any of the Lions.” She explained. 

“So?” Keith spoke for the first time, making his presence in the room clear. “What does this mean?”

Allura shook her head once more. “I don't know.”

Pidge bit her lips. She had a feeling she knew why. It was because their Paladins were still alive, and Black and Blue were probably furious and were not having any of this. It was probably their way of saying, “Hey! Our Paladins are alive! Get them back to us!”

Should she say something? She could feel Green telling her to speak up. But…? Would it be safe? They would probably want them on the ship immediately. Despite what Shiro and Lance had said about potentially attacking the crew. She couldn’t figure out something alone though. She couldn't operate the Altean machines by herself. Coran. Coran was the castle’s mechanic. If anyone could understand the machines on this ship, it was him.

When everyone began to filter out towards what they had been doing, Pidge approached Coran. It was pretty late in their night cycle. She had caught him alone, staring out into the stars.

“Hey, Coran?” Coran turned his head down as he saw Pidge stand beside him.

“Why hello number five!” He teased. Pidge knew that Coran knew what her name was. He probably wanted to keep some sort of humour in these sad times. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you know if you have any machines that can help synthesize blood?” She asked.

“Blood?” He asked curiously. “Is this blood a human thing?”

She looked to him awkwardly. “Uh. Yes. It's an important part of the human body and what allows us to live.” He blinked owlishly. “It's like this liquid substance that’s red and carries the oxygen to the brain and the carbon dioxide to be expelled from the system as well…?” She lead on. There was a spark in his eyes, as if he knew what she was talking about. 

“You mean worudo!”

“Oh yeah, sure, worudo.” She nodded, as if she understood what he meant. She didn't. She had no idea at all. 

Coran pulled on his moustache. “Well, the healing pods would typically take care of that.” Pidge began to feel herself deflate. Well, here she was. “But,” her hope rose again, “we do have a replicator if that is of any interest to you?” He offered.

“Yes. Absolutely. Show me the way, Coran.”

“Aye, aye number five!” He saluted her, and she knew full well he was joking and enjoying every single moment of this. She made a small groaning sound and followed him throughout the castleship. She wasn’t quite exactly sure _where_ he was leading her, but she had the assumption if was pretty far out. Despite being a ship, it was still a castle. That meant they had to go down a variety of stairs. And a variety there was. Not quite like Hogwarts, with its stairs that move and make it impossible to get around, but stairs that winded and turned and almost felt as if they moved. It was a hassle to remember the way, but hey, she was going to try her best.

The replicator was in a far room, and it was the only thing in it. According to Coran, it could create as well as copy and replicate. All it needed were the proper materials and an image of what the desired product was. He hocked up a device to her head, quite like when they had done that memory bonding exercise where Hunk tried to snoop around in her head, and laid out some materials for her. He told her to think of anything, as for example, her glasses. 

Okay, she could do that. She sort of understood how they were made, vaguely, probably. God she was still wearing her translator glasses. She knew how regular glasses were made, so yeah she could do that, absolutely she could do that! Without much needing to be done, she heard a small ding, and an agreeable sound from Coran. 

“Excellent work. Here, try them on.” He grabbed Pidge’s glasses and gave her the duplicate. It was a good thing she made non-prescription glasses or she would not be able to see anything at all, oh boy. She looked around, and she could see as clear as day. She pulled them off; they looked identical to Matt’s. A curious sound snapped her out of the nostalgic trance she had put herself in. She turned her head to Coran, who was examining her glasses with fascination. “Pidge, where exactly did you get these?” He pulled them on and off, looking like someone from Earth who was trying on prescription glasses when they had a 20/20 eyesight. 

“The last space mall we visited.” She said nonchalantly. It wasn’t quite a lie. She did get them at the last space mall _she_ had visited anyway. 

Coran made another sound. He rubbed his chin, protruded his lower lip and scrutinized the glasses. Pidge felt herself began to grow awkward. Coran turned a glance back to Pidge, and she turned away, trying to avoid his stare. There was a small flicker in his eyes, and suddenly he returned to glasses to her. “Well, take good care of these.” He ruffled her hair. He began to make his way to the exit. She let out a breath she had no idea she had been holding. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and she sharply inhaled. “What do you plan replicating worudo for anyway?”

Pidge turned her head, meeting Coran’s curious stare. “Well, uh. You know just in case the castleship runs out of power and we… need to do a blood transfusion?” Her voice pitched at the end, and she was mentally cursing herself for how horrible of a liar she was.

“Blood transfusion?” Oh thank god he bought onto it.

Pidge nodded. “Yeah, blood transfusion. You know, when you’ve lost too much blood and you need a compatible donor to give you blood similar to your blood type?” Nothing seemed to be clicking for Coran, instead he made a horrifyingly disgusted face. 

“How… barbaric.” He readjusted himself. He coughed into his hand. “Well, if you feel this is necessary, then good luck number five!” With that, he left her alone. 

Pidge sighed. Well, it was time to get to work.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, has anyone seen Pidge lately?” Hunk looked around. He’d been trying to see if he could tinker with the gaming console Pidge and Lance had gotten at the space mall. He had to bite his lips. God everything was still so fresh on his mind.

“No.” Keith’s voice echoed throughout the hangar. Hunk had to forcefully drag Keith away from the gladiator. He wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping and he was absolutely slowly killing himself. Hunk had Keith on lockdown. There was an untouched bowl of foodgoo to his right had he fiddled with his knife.  

Hunk put down with what he had been tinkering with. “She’s been kinda missing lately.” Hunk scratched his head. He sighed.

“Haven’t noticed.” Keith replied dully. Hunk only sent him an annoyed frown, but really, he couldn’t blame Keith. Losing your best friend not once, but twice? He didn’t even want to think of it. Keith’s eyebrows furrowed, as he covered his nose. He looked around, trying to see what exactly had bothered him.

“You okay?” Hunk asked.

“Are you working with iron?” Keith still looked around, and zeroed in on Hunk’s work station. No iron in sight. He narrowed his eyes, annoyed with not finding what he had wanted. 

“Uh, no? Why?”

“Because it smells like someone’s bleeding out.”

The smell persisted for the next few days, according to Keith, and it was grating on his nerves. Finally, the smell hit Hunk’s nostrils, and he could understand why Keith felt as if he had wanted to gag at any given moment. The smell was potent and putrid and he could only imagine _disgustingly sticky_. This wasn't like a normal amount of blood from, like, the periods he used to get, and periods smelled god awful, this smell was far, far stronger. He didn't want to know where it was coming from. Keith though was adamant to find the source. No way in hell was he lasting another day with it in his nose, stuck there, persistent and never leaving. He had had it.

The smell brought them to the hangar where the Lions were. Black and Blue’s particle barriers were still up, which aggravated Allura to no end. They even visited allies for potential Paladins. Not a single one. That wasn't the odd thing though, no, the odd thing was that the Green Lion was missing. Hunk and Keith looked to one another. When had Pidge left? The lingering smell was the strongest here. 

“That’s bad.” Was all Hunk could say before Keith was running in the direction of the Bridge. Hunk was on his tail, yelling at him to slow down and wait up for him.

It was a good thing Allura was manning the ship, looking at the map and planning their next course of action. They were currently helpless, and they desperately needed to find replacements. She did not bat an eyelash as Keith came barging in, but it did draw Coran’s attention.

“Ah, Keith—” 

“I need you to track the Green Lion.” He was standing next to Allura looking furiously as the screen. Coran stared at him wide-eyed while Allura looked to him, a bit indignantly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Pidge left in the Green Lion. You can track the lion’s right?” Allura blinked, a bit surprised, but she nodded. She brought up the giant star map, similar to the first time she had assigned them their Lions. There was a hovering light, slowly making its way towards a much brighter light.

Hunk came running in, panting. He looked around and caught sight of Allura and Keith looking at the map. He made his way over to Coran, who was looking over to the map curiously.

“Have you seen Pidge recently?” He asked. 

“Why yes! Just a few quintants ago she asked me about a replicator.” He nodded to himself, rightfully so.

“A replicator?” Hunk asked.

Coran nodded. “Yes, she inquired about replicating worudo.”

“Worudo?” Chimed in Allura. “Why would she need to replicate worudo? The healing pods already do the job.”

“Um, non-alteans here.” Hunk waved, bringing their attention to him. “What exactly’s worudo?”

“If I remember correctly, she said it was what you humans call ‘blood’.” He put the last part within air quotations.

“She’s headed to Gartanor.” Keith said suddenly, eyes fixated on the map. Allura turned her head back, as if the information was surprising to her, and points had been put together. Allura looked down, eyes clouded over in thought.

The moment of silence passed.

“Did she say why she needed blood?” Keith asked suddenly. His eyes were still fixated on the screen.

Coran tapped his chin. “She did say something about ‘blood transfusions’ if not mistaken.” Keith seemed to accept that, as he looked to Coran, then to the ground, and finally back to the screen. Without another word, he left the Bridge. He had come down to the assumption that like him, Pidge was still in mourning, and was probably making blood packs so no one else would die like Shiro had.

“Hey, Keith, wait up!” Hunk called after Keith. “Thanks Coran!” His voice echoed through the halls. Coran smiled brightly at the acknowledgement. Praise always felt nice. 

Coran turned his head to Allura, her pensive look bothering him. “Is everything alright princess?” He inquired.

“Yes…” she furrowed her eyebrows. “Coran, there’s something I need to look into.” She turned on her heels, and made her way towards the exit.

The mice knew all, and Allura was quite frankly glad she could speak to them. It came in handy to tell her the whereabouts of her eluding Green Paladin. According to the mice, Pidge had brought back books from Gartanor, just after that she began her replications. Not only that, but she knew for a fact the Gartos drank blood to survive. There was obviously something Pidge had figured out from those books, and she had a need to find out.

Allura looked around, the corridor was vacant, as the mice had informed her. She entered the room without much of a hitch. She was the princess of this castle, she had access to every single one of the rooms. The door hummed, and she stepped in. The room itself looked completely unused, the blanket had been stripped from the bed, meaning wherever Pidge was, so was the missing blanket. Allura hummed as she wandered around the room, a carbon copy of all the other sleeping quarters. What was different though, where the pile of books on the floor, next to a scanner, meant to turn any files it read digital. She must have scanned the information she needed and uploaded onto what Hunk called her ‘laptop’. Really, Terran technology eluded her. She looked around, knowing full well there was no one, and grabbed the first book upon the pile.

She grumbled in frustration as she quickly realized her inability to read what was handwritten on the first page. Curse her paladins for never teaching her the English language as it is written. The mice told her to grab the glasses on the nightstand, they would solve her problem. She raised her eyebrows, but complied nonetheless. Putting the glasses on, the words became as clear as Altean.

‘ _Ugh you're so totally gonna hate me for this but I just wanted to write you a reminder to like, take it easy. I know you want us back as quickly as possible, but like I don't want my partner to kill herself from overwork. I mean I expect that to happen, but I'm trying to plan to have it not happen._

_Also Shiro keeps making a lot of death jokes and I don't know if I should laugh or be highly concerned._

_\- I love you, Lance.’_

That… that was not possible. But she felt her suspicions began to be confirmed. On Gartanor she saw other species, other species she _knew_ were not native to the planet, and yet drank blood like Regalia had done. She had heard rumours as a child, of these people who came back to life to haunt the living, but now she had a better understanding. These were people who came back to life not to haunt the living, but as a response to, she was not quite sure what. These books could hopefully explain it to her.

But her answers had been given. Her Paladins were still alive. Pidge must have figured something out from her visit to Gartanor and attempting to find a solution to whatever problem had arose. She was producing worubo, meaning she was attempting to create a meal Lance and Shiro could eat to allow them to return without harming everyone else on the ship.

And she was doing this alone.

Without informing the others.

This would not do.

 

* * *

 

Shiro walked in to find Lance sprawled on the couch, nose in a book. His shirt was hitched up to his chest, hand on his stomach. Shiro pulled the book off of Lance, and put it away. He’d gotten in interest in learning about history and culture so Shiro could have someone to discuss with when he had rambled on one morning about it. Lance had obviously been confused about what he had been talking about, but it was nice to see Lance take in interest for his sake. ‘ _Nothing else we can do but wait_ ’ he said, all the while shrugging.

“Vamos…basta…” he murmured to himself as he attempted to snuggle into himself and shifted on the couch. “Shiro…basta…Katie, Shiro won't stop—he's the one who…” Lance shifted again. His tone of voice didn't sound upset so whatever he must've been dreaming about been pleasant. Maybe it was for the best to let him lie. Though he couldn't help to admit, but be a bit curious to whatever he was dreaming about. It was a bit late in the evening. He had just returned from Evita’s book club, after a bit of persuasion from Lance. He didn't like how accustom and familiar he was becoming with this place, but they couldn't leave, not yet anyway. 

He didn't want to kick himself, but he had been impulsive. He didn't want to think that drinking blood meant drinking it indiscriminately of the species, but what Regalia had told them the next day, of how they survived on blood, not just Galra blood… and when Katie had come… really she smelled like another meal and he felt ill to his stomach. The Hunger _was_ frightful. He didn't want to think of what he could do. He would have gone home in an instant had he not know of what he could have done. He could have put his team at a far greater risk. He could have—

“Morning…are you okay?” Lance yawned. He blinked heavily, rubbed his eyes and scratched his hair. He looked like a mess and desperately wanted his skin care products.

Shiro turned his head to Lance. “Fine. Just thinking.”

Lance raised an eyebrow, his lips a flat line and he was still obviously half-asleep. “ _Sure_. And I didn't just dream about you smothering me in kisses.” He deadpanned and yawned once more.

Shiro’s face reddened from the statement, but Lance clearly hadn't realized the words that had just left his mouth. Not awake and exfoliated Lance had no filter apparently.

Three.

Two.

One.

His eyes widened. “Did I say you? I mean Katie. Yeah Katie… ha…” Lance followed Shiro as he walked towards Lance. Lance’s eyes were wide, and his mouth shut tight, trying to dig him further into the hole he had made for himself. Shiro crouched to find himself at eye level with Lance. His face was unreadable, but his cheeks were red, he wasn't breathing, as was the usual, and his eyes… while not their normal beautiful dark brow, were still lovely because they were _Shiro_ ’s. Suddenly, Lance stopped breathing when he felt cold lips touch his own, and they were kissing.

_Oh god he was kissing Shiro._

He could feel his brain begin to short circuit, but he leaned in nonetheless. It was a good thing neither of them really _needed_ to breathe anymore as they could have those kisses that extended eternally, until Shiro finally did pull away and looked at Lance with this sort of soft playful look.

Lance’s flushed harder, he felt himself leaning in, wanting to let himself be smothered in kisses, but it had to be at that exact moment the door slammed open. Both Lance and Shiro jumped back. In result, seeing as Lance was seated upon the couch, he fell onto the floor. At the door was none other than Katie herself, holding bags of red liquid.

“Guess who did it.” She grinned slyly, holding up the bags.

Lance looked up from where he was on the floor, while Shiro moved forward, beginning a congratulations for her. Katie raised a finger, telling him not to congratulate her just yet. They still had to see if they could even eat it or not. When Shiro informed her that they had already eaten that day, she sighed. Okay, so she would sleep over for the night and tomorrow morning she would be there to oversee it.

“And not just you two, I have to be there for it, _Shiro_.” Katie eyed Shiro with a pointed glare, and a frown. Shiro got the message. There was a snort from the vicinity of the couch, but the two of them ignored it. Katie closed the door with her foot. She rapidly dashed to the kitchen and placed the bags within what she could only assume was a fridge seeing as it was cold. It was very cold. 

“Your shoes!” Lance yelled.

“I know! But do you _want_ me to drop about 6 litres of blood on the floor?” There was no response from Lance as he shut up. “Didn’t think so.” She kicked off her shoes and placed them beside Shiro’s. With that, she turned on her heels and sat herself snugly upon the couch. She tapped the cushion beside her for Lance to join her. With a few tries, he pulled himself off the floor and found himself entangled with Katie.

“ _So_ ,” she asked, turning her head to look up to Lance with a sly grin, “how’s it feel to kiss your crush?” Lance face turned bright red as he pushed Katie off of his lap.

“ _Oh my god._ ”

“What? I know you have a big crush on Shiro. You talked to me about it _all the time._ ” She turned her head to Shiro, who stared awkwardly at the two. “And god am I glad you finally realized Lance was your type. The subtle pinning got annoying to watch after a while.”

“ _Katie!_ ” Katie found herself snickering as both Lance and Shiro looked at her with scandalized looks. She discreetly made her way off the couch as a pillow was flung her way.

“ _Tabarna_ —oh _it is on little man_.” She grabbed the pillow that was thrown at her, and with a huge grin, attempted to swing it towards Lance. Instead, she smacked Shiro dead in the face, who had walked between the two to defuse the playful fight.

Katie and Lance froze in horror and realization. It felt like an ungodly amount of time before suddenly Shiro looked down, grabbed a pillow and flung it at Katie.

“Pillow fight!” Lance yelled excitedly, throwing host fist in the air before eating a face full of pillows. Katie and Shiro gave each other grins before moving out of a fuming Lance’s way, armed with not one, but three pillows. The man was going to be a terror and he wasn't called the sharpshooter for _nothin’_.

In the end none of them won. They were lied out on the floor, blanket sprawl out awkwardly between the three of them and pillows placed the best as they could for support.

“So you aren't upset?” Shiro asked tentatively. Katie understood immediately the question was at her. She propped herself up onto her shoulder to get a better look at Shiro. His eyes were still so weird to her, but she was slowly getting used to them.

“No. Shiro you _know_ I'm polyamorous like I know you used to write 50k slowburn coffee shop aus—”

“Wait what.” Lance rose immediately, looking at Shiro in some sort of new light.

“—me and Lance we talked about this. We would tell each other if there was a person we liked and I _knew_ Lance liked you. Really. Not upset. Finally, glad he can stop talking about you and actually enjoy _you_.” She turned her head to Lance, though he didn't seem to catch her slightly annoyed stare as Lance was still staring at Shiro from the previous revelation. 

“I'm flattered.” Shiro mumbled, looking down. Katie nodded, content with his answer.

“So we’re not going to address the fact Shiro wrote fanfiction?” Lance asked suddenly. Shiro sighed while Katie could only laugh.

“And Keith had to proofread them before he threatened Shiro and I became his proofreader.” Katie snickered.

“Katie!” Shiro felt his cheeks growing hotter as Lance looked at him with bemusement.

“ _Holy shit_.” He was in so much awe.

Lance lied back down, stars still in his eyes, ignoring the bickering that ensued between Shiro and Katie. He wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the ceiling, wondering what kind of fanfiction Shito wrote exactly, but Shiro leaned up to him when both Katie and he had gone silent.

“Katie had to ask me to come to prom with her because everyone was too afraid of her.” He whispered. “I was in the year below her and she had a reputation to herself. She had an Emo phase.”

“Shiro I can hear you.” She hissed.

“Oh my god.” Lance was living. He was _living_. Emo kid Katie. Fanfic writer Shiro. He began to break into a fit of laughter, pulling Katie and Shiro’s attention from the staring match they had almost begun. “You guys are _nerds._ ” He was able to breathe out between his laughter. Katie and Shiro looked to one another, as if simultaneously getting the message.

“Hey Lance,” Katie began, “anything you want to share with us?” 

Lance shook his head. “No, I'm good.” He began to sober up quickly. He pulled the covers over him and pretended to sleep. Nope, he wasn't here to over share. He could feel a strong force tugging at his consciousness and suddenly everything went dark.

“How’s Keith holding?” Shiro asked from where he made his own drink of the weird tea-coffee blend. Katie was sipping at her own cup from where she sat at the table.  

She lowered her cup and slumped her shoulders. “Horribly.” Was all she had to say in a small, bitter tone. Shiro winced. “I can't blame him though. He lost you not once, but _twice_.” Shiro turned back to his kettle, not willing to look at Katie. “Hey.” She called out. Shiro did not respond. “ _Hey._ ” Her voice was far softer this time, her brown eyes were warm and full of sympathy. Shiro barely turned his head, only catching a glimpse of her. “ _It's not your fault._ ” She hushed. 

“I thought dying would solve all of my problems, but it only made loose ends unable to tie themselves.” Shiro looked down to his empty mug, about as empty as his dead life. “Now I'm just dying to be alive.”

“God your sense of humour precedes you even as a space vampire.” Katie groaned as she lowered her head closer to her own mug.

“I wouldn't call that a joke.”

“If anything I’d call it an unintentional pun.” She lied her head down on the table, her hair a mess as she blinked under the soft light. Everything was soft here. It was a terrible contradiction of a planet. A planet of aesthetically soft space vampires. She was hoping for like, space Gothic, but nope. Space Québécois buildings with what almost felt like Space Kawaii mixed with a tinge of Space Gothic if the bone castle was anything to mark up as. “How long until Lance wakes up?”

Shiro turned to Katie. “I would think you would know best?”

Katie huffed. “Yeah, me too. But when I nudged him when I woke up he was out like a rock. Usually he would be up by now, you know if I applied Earth time to an alien planet that you guys seem to have acclimated to with a different day/night cycle, you know.”

Shiro sighed, but there was a smile on his face. At least Katie was still Katie. Both of their attentions were brought to the stairway when the sound of creeping wood echoed throughout the house. It was followed by a yawn. Well, there was Lance.

He rubbed his eyes and lazily waved to both Katie and Shiro, before pulling up a chair and sitting at the table, staring blankly into the void.

Finally, Shiro poured the liquid into his mug and sat at the table along with Katie and Lance. They sat quietly as the two worked their way at the teaffe, as Lance dubbed it, letting the quiet of the morning settle over them. Finally, Katie rose from her seat and made her way over to the fridge. She opened a few cupboards and turned to Shiro and Lance, not finding what she wanted. “Where’re the cups?”

“Top shelf.” Shiro said, turning back to Katie. In response, Katie looked down with a glare and resigned herself to her fate. She crawled onto the counter and reached for the higher shelves.

“Um. Katie? Do you need uh…help?” Lance called out.

Katie grabbed two glasses and turned back to Lance. “No.” She stared him dead in the eye and made her way down. She reached into the fridge and grabbed the bags of blood. “How much do you guys normally take?” She asked as she cut open a bag.

“Typically one full cup of Galra blood.” Shiro informed her. She nodded and began to pour the synthesized blood. 

“Let’s hope a full cup of human blood is the same as Galra blood.” She muttered to herself. 

The smell began to strengthen as not just a litre was poured in, but two. One cup was full, and she moved onto the next. Lance wanted to gag from the smell, and yet he could feel his hunger grow. It wasn't something he wanted to think about. The other cup filled up just as quickly, and Katie presented the glasses to the both of them. She grinned as she gestured to them. “Well, drink up.” She encouraged. Tentatively, Shiro and Lance looked to one another, and taking the initiative was Lance, who took a small sip. 

Katie looked at them, a twinkle in her eyes as they drank the blood, and god she would think back on how weird all of this was, to only have her excitement broken when Lance spat out the blood gagging while Shiro kindly spat it back into his cup. Katie frowned. So. Her replicate had not worked. “Back to the drawing board.” She sighed.

Lance coughed whatever synthesized blood remained in his mouth, while Shiro looked to her with a sympathetic smile. “It was a good try.”

“Yeah but it still made you sick.”

“A for effort?” Lance piped in. Katie turned back to him, the face of exasperation and annoyance was all he was met with and he raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Got the memo.” He muttered.

“Can I take a sample of Galra blood to see if I can replicate it?” She asked as she peered over to the fridge.

Shiro nodded. “Lance can take you to the market to get a sample.”

“Oh god there's a market?” She asked, astounded by that fact.

“Yeah. What did you think we did? Went out hunting for Galra?” Lance asked.

“Yes. Yes I did.”

Lance rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his hip. “Come on. I'll take you there now.” He gestured to her to come to him, and she obliged. 

“Really, dressed like this?” She asked, pulling on her sullied clothes. She looked like a mess. Lance looked at her, tongue sticking out. He placed his hand on his chin and snapped his fingers. Suddenly he ruffled her hair.

“There!” There was a muffled snort from the back. Katie only looked up to glare. “I love you too.” Katie rearranged her hair. Okay, this would do. Lance turned back to Shiro. “See you in a bit!” He waved as both he and Katie exited the house. Shiro waved back, and he was left alone to his affairs. So very alone with the smell of blood.

It was thick and disgusting. Four litres of it, in a cup, overwhelming to his nose. He reached out to the glass, and all he saw was purple. His heart raced as he looked around, but it was all purple. He could hear ringing in his ears, but he couldn't see anything. The lights were purple and blinding. For some reasons his head was telling him it should be soft, and not only purple, but blue and pink and red, but it wasn't. It was purple. Glaringly purple. He looked down to his hands, two flesh hands, covered red with bleeding cuts, smelling heavy with iron. There was so much iron. It was nauseating.

Around him was a body. He wasn't sure whose body, or ever what species, but there was a body. There was a dead body and he suddenly realized, _oh_ , _I killed them_. His hands were shaking as the cheering of the crowd grew louder. He couldn't hear the chants of the crowd, maybe for the best. He could only hear his thumping heart, pulsing head, and a ringing noise. A loud, loud ringing noise.

His head felt like he was underwater as he looked around frantically. He was alone. There was no one here and he was so very alone. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AY SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.
> 
> GOOD NEWS: I FINISHED THE FIC
> 
> Bad news: ???? i finished the fic?


	6. Bingo!

Pidge groaned in frustration with every single fibre of her being. The Galra blood had been easy to synthesize. Of course it had been though, she had a sample right in front of her. Turned out there was another way to replicate stuff that Coran hadn't told her about. When she asked him about it, he replied that where was the fun in that? It was far more fun to feel prideful about a replication you made from memory than having it scanned. It also allowed for a better analysis and assessment of materials. Figured. Though for Pidge figuring out the scanning setting had been a breakthrough in her research. She was having difficulty analyzing her Galra blood sample. She could only make out one component: Aluminum. Now she found herself with a few litres of Galra blood and determination in her step; to get back to Shiro and Lance and bring them home. 

Shiro made his way back to the front door of the house. He had been guided back by someone who had been on guard duty, telling him the area was to be evacuated as the air became toxic to breathe. Right, the air could kill them from time to time. His body didn't really want to move, death had become commonplace to him. He had accepted dying long ago, but not like this, his mind was telling him. He may no longer fear death, but now he had people he did not want to leave behind.

He faced the door, hand raised to knock, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to face Lance. He didn't want to feel cornered again, like he was being forced into something he did not want to remember. He couldn't take a breath to calm his heart, he didn't have a pulse anymore. Now it was just habit to calm his stress. He knocked once, he knocked twice, he knocked thrice. The door opened immediately, and he was greeted to a smile.

“Hey.” Lance’s voice was warm, and Shiro could feel his heart melting, but he still felt _nervous_. He walked in and pulled off his shoes, knowing how annoyed Lance got with shoes in the house. “Want me to get you something to drink?” He asked, keeping a distance from Shiro. He was giving him his space, and Shiro realized Lance was walking on eggshells. There was a pang in his chest that made him feel a bit worse. 

Shiro shook his head. “I'm fine, thank you.” Lance’s smile only faltered for half a second. He looked down, and made some sort of internal decision. He squashed those eggshells and took Shiro’s hand.

“I just…I just wanted to apologize.” He rubbed the back of Shiro’s hand with his thumbs. “I was—you probably don't want to talk. _And that’s okay._ What I wanted to say was that I'm here to listen. I can just,” Lance paused, looking up to Shiro, “be there you know? And Katie wants to be there too.” He began to lean forward into a hug, but stopped, realizing Shiro may not have wanted it. Slowly, Shiro wrapped his arms around Lance, and Lance’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Thank you.” He could hear Lance beginning to sniffle. He pulled away and gently cuffed Lance’s face. He leaned his head in to touch his forehead.

“When we get out of here,” Lance said, his voice nothing more than a whisper, “you, me and Katie? So totally doing embarrassing cringey stuff you haven't done in years.”

“Is that a promise?” Shiro asked, looking into Lance’s blue eyes. 

“Big time.” Lance gave him a shit-eating grin.

Shiro could…he could look forward to that. Yeah. He'd like that. He'd like to indulge in _something_. Maybe he could… he leaned in to kiss Lance and intertwined their fingers. “Maybe we could head out tomorrow?” He offered. 

“A date? You sure?” Lance asked, pulling away to gouge his expression. Shiro nodded his head. Lance gave him a warm smile. Not one of his typical grins, but something he saw less often, sweeter that made him look adorable. “A date it is.”

* * *

 

Allura watched Pidge discreetly embark in Green. She held bags of something, but Allura wasn't exactly sure as to _what_. She couldn't feel any life from it, any sort of quintessence. It was almost as if it were dead, which troubled her a bit. Pidge apparently had been replicating worudo, it should have quintessence. Now for what reason she was _replicating_ worudo… Allura had her hunches. She was about 99% positive it was related to the fact her Paladins were still alive. She wanted to confirm this herself, and bring them home.

She embarked on a podship, following Pidge’s trail. It was a good thing she already knew Pidge’s destination. Following the Green Lion was a feat, as it went so quickly. Really, had she not checked beforehand she was sure would have been in trouble.

She landed a distance away from Pidge, and now her quest began: finding Pidge, and by that finding her not dead Paladins. Right. Now where was Pidge?

…Maybe she should have taken a faster podship. Wait, she took a few steps, and watched as her foot imprinted on the trail. Wonderful, she smiled to herself. Pidge’s footprint would be small and unique; the Paladin’s uniform had a shoe indentation she could recognize instantly. She scrutinized and stared at the ground, it took her a few tries, but she finally made out Pidge’s footprint.

What did her Paladins say? Bingo?

Bingo!

Now she had her lead. With a determined march in her step, she made her way to wherever the footprints lead her. Suddenly, her luck ran dry. _Cobblestone._ She found herself at the entrance of a town, a town she was _not_ familiar with. She received awed stares from passersby, who kneeled in her presence. Right, maybe the town’s people could help her? She walked forward towards a tall alien she had recognized from the party. Their name was Jesus if not mistaken. They had been quite chatty. 

“Pardon, Jesus, if I remember?” The moth looked to Allura, a bit surprised.

“Princess, you remembered? How, how can— _may_ I help you?”

“I'm looking for a young girl, short brown hair, round glasses, green shirt, shorts and bright orange shoes. About this,” she gestured with her hands to about her chest, “tall.”

“You mean Katie?” Jesus asked.

“Katie?” Allura raised an eyebrow. How many people could possibly look like Pidge? Apart from her apparent brother. 

Jesus nodded. “Yeah, Katie. Down with the fledglings Shiro and Lance.” Jesus gestured down to a vague direction. How helpful.

Wait. _Shiro and Lance_. She turned her head in the direction Jesus had pointed, and made our vague homes. Soon. Soon she could bring her Paladins home. She turned back to Jesus, a smile on her face. “Thank you. Can you show me how to get to their home?”

Jesus shook their head. “Sorry, I'm headed to work. My turn for guard duty.” Jesus leaned to the side. “Hey Evita!” A bird like creature turned her head towards Jesus, and pointed to herself. “There's only one Evita, now gettover here.” Evita made her way over, and bowed to Allura.

“What do you need?” She asked, looking to Jesus, and back to Allura.

“Could you show Princess Allura to the fledglings’ house?”

“Sure.” She nodded. Jesus thanked her, and took their leave, leaving Allura and Evita alone. “I happen to live next door to them.” She gestured for Allura to follow her. Allura walked beside Evita, looking around curiously. Everything was a bit too awfully silent. “I'm sorry for what has happened.” Evita hushed. Allura turned her head to the avian.

“So they have…?” Evita nodded her head, turning her gaze away from Allura. “And did Regalia know?” There was an underlying tone of anger in her voice. Evita nodded once more. Allura felt an anger spark in her. She remembered she needed to remain cool. “Is it alright to ask you to take me to Regalia after you have brought me to my Paladins?” Her tone was obviously not a question, it was a demand.

Evita nodded. “Of course, princess.” With that, they had arrived. Evita pointed the way down, while in return gestured to her own home. All Allura would have to do was knock once she was done. Allura thanked Evita, and made her way down the stairs. 

She stood in front of an imposing door, and she knew all of her answers laid behind it. She could smell the faint whiff of worudo. Galra worudo. Allura breathed in. She knocked once, twice and thrice. She lowered her hand and heard the scuttling of footsteps. Suddenly the door opened, and a familiar face she had not seen in so long greeted her. It almost felt like the first time she had met him, but instead of falling into his arm and attacking him, she willingly gave Lance a hug.

“Allura—?” “Princess!” “What are—”

She hushed down Lance with her hair and weight. Let her relish the moment. She squeezed him tighter, and felt the change. Barely a breath, no living quintessence and skin like lukewarm water. “Your ears are still disgusting.” She muttered into his shoulder. She pulled away, and looked to Shiro. “I'm glad you're okay.” She turned her gaze back to Lance. “Both of you.”

“Okay might be sugar coating things.” Pidge muttered. Shiro nudged her in the rib and she glared in return. “It's true.”

“ _Katie._ ”

“How did you find us?” Lance asked, getting Shiro and Pidge away from their staring match. Allura looked to Lance, her attention being drawn away from the other two.

“I followed Pidge.” It would be best for now that she had violated one of her Paladin’s privacy alone, for now. She could bring that up later. “She had gone to Gartanor recently, and I assumed her next visit would be here.”

Pidge turned her head away from Lance’s stare, examining how wonderful the architecture of the house was. Truly built to utilize the least amount of space as possible.

“You don't seem surprised we're alive.” Voiced Shiro. Pidge’s stare turned back Allura, who stiffened at the sudden shift in conversation. Well, she had assumed things would come to this.

She clasped her hands and looked down. “I am afraid not surprised in the slightest. It would explain the lack of response from the Black and Blue Lions.” She looked to the table, and turned her head back to the group. “May I sit? This explanation may be long.”

* * *

 

“Hey have you seen Allura?” Hunk looked around the bridge.

“The princess? No, can't say I have!” Coran called out from where he was fiddling with the map. He furrowed his eyebrows as he made another swipe. “That's odd.” Coran made a humming sound.

Hunk jumped to his feet and made his way over to lean over Coran’s shoulder. “What? What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?” 

“Hey, has anyone seen Pidge?” The sound of the door buzzed, as Keith walked in.

“No.” The other two chorused. Keith raised an eyebrow and made his way over, trying his best to look over Hunk and Coran, but failing miserably.

“You're looking at a map of all the distress beacons signalled and picked up in the past few weeks. Had I been a quintant later I would not have noticed this.” He pulled up a beacon that had already been shut off.

“And what exactly are we looking at?” Asked Keith, unable to see behind the giants. He wasn't _that_ small. He just hated how tall they were in comparison to _him._ Both Coran and Hunk turned their heads back to Keith.

“A distress beacon from the planet Gartanor!” Coran supplied. 

“And why would they set off a distress beacon for what?” Hunk asked. 

“A few doboshes.” Coran filled in.

“A few whatever?” Hunk gestured to Coran.

“I'm not quite sure. In fact, I remember Allura giving Regalia a Voltron Alliance communicator if they ever needed assistance.” Coran said pensively. He was looking to the spot intently.

“Wait, we have commu—oh wait, the Arusians. Yeah whoops my bad. Sort of… forgot about that.” Hunk twiddled his thumbs, but he had not been the only one to forget about the communicator, Keith had too.

“Coran, what date was the signal?” Asked Keith. He had a hunch.

“90/34/78.” He said matter of factly.

“Earth years.” Keith insisted.

“Oh, right, well, hm… 09/05/15.” 

“And what's the day Pidge went to Gartanor.” This wasn't a question. It was rhetorical in nature. It was the exact same date as the beacon. She wasn't here now. First time could easily be passed off as mourning, now? Now she was gone not once, not twice, but thrice. It was not a coincidence. She found something. But what did she find exactly? 

“Do you think Allura followed her?” Hunk turned his head to Keith.

“If you can't find her.” The two looked to one another and nodded. Both Pidge and Allura were not missing any longer. 

Coran was silent. Unresponsive Lions, Pidge making worudo, Allura having followed after Pidge, and now an old distress beacon from quintants ago… all from a planet where they fed on worudo to live. Wait.

Coran’s eyes widened, bits and pieces slowly clicking into place. He should have noticed sooner. He was sure Allura had. Whatever she had to look into, she had found. He remembered stories his grandfather would tell him of a wandering race that were born from death, that drank the blood of the living to thrive. He had always thought they had been old tales to scare him from adventuring, but now… Could the Gartos be those people from those tales…? The Blue and Black Lions were not responsive. Pidge was making worudo. Pidge visited Gartanor on more than one occasion. After looking into something, Allura went to Gartanor. _Shiro and Lance were buried on Gartanor_. 

It was a stretch of an idea. And an absolutely mad one at that, but it was one of the only possible explanations.

“I need you boys to be ready.” Coran said suddenly, drawing both of their attention. “We’re setting a course for Gartanor.”

“Don't you think sneaking into Pidge’s room is an invasion of privacy?” Hunk asked as he followed Keith’s steady pace towards Pidge's room.

“There's something she discovered, if it's anywhere it's in her room.” Keith said determinedly. “Shouldn't be too much of an issue, you've gone through her stuff before.” He said offhandedly. 

“Yeah but—” Hunk tried to retort, but yeah, no he had a habit of being nosy. He resigned himself to his fate. He'd snuck into her room before, but to his defence she keeps stealing his tools. And not returning them. He sighed. “I can break her lock.” He mumbled.

“That's the spirit, big guy.”

They arrived at Pidge’s door. It didn't take long for Hunk to unlock it, and be within the confines of her room. If Keith had to be honest, when the door opened, he had wanted to gag. There was a residual smell of blood that made him sick. Hunk, on the other hand, noted the difference in Pidge’s room. For one, there were far more books. So many more books. Where had she even gotten them? They hadn't visited a space mall—or swap moon if you prefer—in a while. Hunk moved forward and grabbed a book, but he quickly realized it wasn't in English. It wasn't even in Altean. He had not a single clue what this language was. He picked up another book, but it was the same script, and another, and another, and another. 

“Hey, something fell out.” Keith pointed out as he picked up a piece of paper. It was a torn out page with handwriting in a language he couldn't read. Hunk leaned over him, and his eyes widened at a first glimpse.

“That’s Lance’s handwriting.” He mumbled in a hallow manner.

“Okay, so Lance wrote Pidge something, odd… but not what we need.” He was about to turn away to search for something else, but Hunk grabbed his shoulder.

“Keith, we don't have pencils or paper here. And if Lance had found something _he would have told me_.” Hunk assured Keith.

That meant the letter was _recent_. That Pidge had just _gotten it_ from wherever she had _gotten the books._ Gartanor. She must have gotten them from Gartanor.

“Can you read the letter?” Keith asked.

Hunk scrunched his eyes as he brought the letter closer to his face. “It's in French… but I can try? Lance used to teach me some French and Spanish for fun.” Hunk quickly skimmed through the letter, trying to find what he understood and what he didn't. “Ugh… you’re something hate something something easy… fast? Kill? Shiro something die something laugh. I love you, Lance. I have no idea.” Hunk sighed as he sadly pulled his eyes away from the letter. His attention was quickly pulled away from Keith's frustrated pacing to the glasses on Pidge’s nightstand. He had always wanted to put them on, but he knew it wasn't a thing to ask. …She wouldn't be bothered if he tried them on real quick right? 

He looked around the room, but nothing changed. Oh. Fake glasses. He should have figured—he looked down to the letter in his hand, in clear English. “Uh Keith, magic translator glasses! I found magic translator glasses!” He exclaimed.

“ _Ugh you're so totally gonna hate me for this but I just wanted to write you a reminder to like, take it easy. I know you want us back as quickly as possible, but like I don't want my partner to kill herself from overwork. I mean I expect that to happen, but I'm trying to plan to have it not happen._  

 _Also Shiro keeps making a lot of death jokes and I don't know if I should laugh or be highly concerned._  

 _\- I love you, Lance._ ”

Hunk finished reading. He looked up to Keith, who held the blankest expression he had ever seen.

They were making their way to Gartanor. Coran’s expression earlier. _He must have figured it out_. Keith thought. In an instant, he was gone, leaving Hunk alone in Pidge’s room, calling out to thin air.

Hunk looked at the books around him. There must have been something Pidge had figured out. He pulled open a book, but it was nothing more than lore. He flipped a few pages, then closed it. He did that with a few other books, and began to paint the picture together. Gartanor was a planet of space vampires that fed on other alien species and needed blood to survive. By killing someone, they aim the change on bringing them back as a space vampire.

 _Lance and Shiro were probably space vampires and Pidge had figured it out_. He put the book down immediately and made his way to the Bridge, hoping to find Keith or Coran to tell them this. Lance and Shiro weren't dead. They were alive as Space Vampires.

* * *

 

“When I was young, my father told me of tales from far away, about these people who took the lives of the innocent to fed themselves and were born from tragedy. I had always thought it had been dreams until I had met Regalia. I hadn't considered that until I heard of Pidge’s attempts to make worudo. I needed to confirm the information, and the mice told me you had books in your room.”

“So you snuck into my room.” Pidge deadpanned.

“Yes. A small breach of privacy—" 

“Big time.”

“But I wanted to be sure.” She attempted to defend herself. Pidge was still bitter. “The Black and Blue Lions had not been responding to any—You knew.” Allura was staring at Pidge now. “You knew, but you never _spoke._ ” On the day she told them of the Lions, _she knew_. It hadn't really sunken in. She had asked about the replicator a bit before or on the day of that specific news,

“This isn't a time to pin blame. What matters is that you're here now and that Katie has found a solution.” Allura turned her head to Shiro, who had defused the situation from escalating further.

“Pardon.” Allura excused herself.

“…I should have said something. Green was telling me to say something, but I didn't.” Pidge looked down to her thumbs and twiddled them. “I wanted to bring them back, be sure I could bring them back, before I said anything.”

A silence overtook the table, as Allura stared at Pidge, mulling over the information, while Pidge looked down to her thighs, realizing how much easier everything could have been had she been more open. There had been nothing stopping her. Shiro or Lance didn't say anything against it. They just said, “we can't come because we're scared of hurting you”. She would have, could have and should have. It all came down to the ifs.

“I personally think if you want to blame anyone, blame Regalia.” Lance broke the silence, bringing all of the attention on him. Shiro only gave him a glare and a frown. “What? They're the one who was like ‘if you wanted to communicate with your team you should have asked.’” Lance imitated Regalia’s voice in a rather snobbish way. “Like I'm just saying, but they could have said something, you know, as an ally of Voltron?”

“He does have a point you know.” Pidge chimed in.

“Yes, but” Shiro crossed his arms, “they apologized, and explained themselves about the situation, saying they _should_ have told Allura, but didn't, out of fear.”

“Yeah, but they could have still called up Allura after that and they didn't.” Lance retorted.

“Gonna have to agree with Lance on this one Shiro.” Pidge said.

“Yes,” Allura spoke up, “I agree, as a member of the Voltron Alliance, they should have informed me of my Paladins still living.” Allura looked around, “and lodged as well.” She rose from where she sat. “I will be back shortly.”

“Allura—” Allura raised a hand to Shiro.

“Do not try to stop me. This will be a… civil conversation between leaders.” Was all she said before leaving the house. She left Pidge, Lance and Shiro alone to their own devices.

“Come on, I'll see if this blood actually works or not, in the meantime.” Pidge said as she began to make her way to the fridge. “It's good for you guys to eat now right?” She inquired.

Shiro nodded. “I'll grab some mugs.”

The blood didn't work. It tasted all the same, disgusting and rotten. It was strange because, there was no difference between the Galra blood she had made and the Galra blood they had collected. Really the only difference was the _source_.

Shiro and Lance had patted her on the shoulder reassuringly, even gave her a kiss on the cheek and that she would figure it out, before moving to cleaning up and doing other things, allowing her to mope all by herself. This was a puzzle she was having trouble figuring out. There was a knock at the door, before it slowly swung open with a grind. At the door stood Allura, her hair a bit dishevelled, but she had a calm aura about herself. She leaned forward, peeking her head in, getting a glance of the place. “Where are Shiro and Lance?”

“Out shopping I guess?” Pidge slumped her head back down, using her left hand to fiddle with the empty cup on the table. She was still a bit bitter. 

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit… down.” Allura raised her hands towards her chest as she took a few cautious steps forward, unsure of how Pidge would react.

Pidge looked up slightly to catch Allura’s concerned, or curious, gaze. She sighed and stopped fiddling with the cup. “No? I just. So the replicated sample of Galra blood I had made should have worked but? It didn't? I'm trying to figure out exactly _what_ I did wrong but I keep running it through my head and it should have been flawless. The replicator scanned the sample, it should be an exact copy.” Pidge pouted. She let out a groan as she rubbed her hair furiously.

Allura lowered her hands and raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

“Be my guest, top shelf, bag filled with golden liquid.” Pidge made a circular motion as she pointed towards the door in a defeatist manner. She was tired, and what should have been exactly what they had needed, didn't supply anything. 

Allura turned her head towards the fridge, then back towards Pidge, a frown on her face. She observed the girl whose body was slumped over, eyes downcast and lungs full of sighs. She made a humming sound before she made her way towards the fridge, pulling one of the doors open and finding one of the many I open bags of golden liquid. Something was off about them. She pulled a bag out, and inspected it curiously in her hands. It was not the consistency or most likely the components as it should have been an exact replica, and yet _something was not right_.

She reached into the fridge once more and pulled out a different bag, identical to the one she held, but did not feel as if something were lacking. It seemed perfectly balanced, as if everything was there, everything was natural. …Natural? Quintessence! Right, oh that was almost embarrassing she had forgotten. It was on her tongue and it sort of had just… poof, mysteriously exiled itself for a short amount of time. The Gartos consume life energy, they cannot consume something without it. She transferred a small amount of her quintessence into the worudo. Just enough for it to be considered living.

“Here, your problem should the solved.” Allura held her head high, proud of being able to be of some sort of service. 

“What? How?” Pidge rose from her chair, clattering it backwards in her surprise. She turned to Allura, eyes wide. “No offence, but how did _you_ figure it out?”

“Simple.” Allura smiled as she placed two worudo down on the table. “All it needed was a little quintessence.” 

Pidge’s mouth hung ajar, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. She flung herself towards Allura, embracing her in a hug she had not been expecting. She stumbled a bit, unsure exactly what to do, but suddenly wrapped her hands around Pidge. She gently patted the shorter girl’s back in a soothing motion. “Thank you.” She heard Pidge hiccup in a chant.

The guys came back, a few bags held within their arms. They looked quizzically to Pidge and Allura, who were still soothing one another. There were tears running down Pidge’s cheek, but a large smile on her face. Moving forward, they put the bags on the table and hovered around Pidge.

“Is everything okay?” Lance asked, trying to figure out what was wrong. Pidge nodded, her grin growing larger as she wiped away her tears.

“I'm…” she took a deep breath, “I'm great.”

“Are you sure?” Shiro questioned, still not fully convinced.

Pidge nodded once more. “Yeah. Allura figured out the problem with the blood.” The boys turned their gaze to Allura, who waved her hands dismissively.

“It was nothing really. Regalia had informed me that they consumed the life essence of beings. The reason why your worudo was not working is because the replicator cannot replicate quintessence.”

“Wait, wait. Does that mean?” Lance turned his face back to Pidge, surprise wide on his face. Pidge nodded ecstatically. Lance began to laugh as he pulled Shiro and Pidge into a tight hug. He gave a strong whistle. “Finally! We can leave this place! Oh Blue how I have _missed_ you.” He howled, tears on the verge of falling.

Shiro, caught by surprise, slowly began to feel himself infected by the joy. He could see the others again. He could see Keith. Tell him he was okay. As okay as he could be. He wouldn't be gone, he wouldn't be gone again. He wouldn't leave him alone again, or Katie, or Lance, or Hunk, or Allura or Coran. He would be there.

Allura felt herself awkwardly standing in front of the hug, but soon found herself pulled in by Lance, and joining the happy laughter and hugs.

Her Paladins were united once more. There was something about these three, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but they seemed closer somehow. She couldn't quite discern _how_ … but there was something. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;w; i hope you guys enjoyed this. All that's left now is a short epilogue I wrote to wrap this up. It might not be the best fic, but it's good practice for writing longer stories so im happy w/ how it turned out even if it isn't be best.


	7. Epilogue

Coran, Hunk and Keith waited in the hangar. They went running when they got the transmission, faces long dead resurfacing once more. There were tears in Hunk’s eyes as he hiccuped and waited. The hangar opened, and in flew two ships, the Green Lion, and Allura’s pod.

With bated breath, they watched as the Lion opened up, and down came two different, but well welcomed familiar faces. Without a second thought, Keith bolted, causing Shiro to stop in surprise when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. Keith was surprised when his skin was as cold as his metallic arm, or how he had no pulse. But it didn't matter now. He could ask later. Shiro was back. Shiro was back and that was all that mattered.

“Hey.” He heard that familiar voice call out to him. “It's good to be back.”

“It's good to have you back.” Keith held him tighter.

“Lanceeeeee!” Hunk yelled as he ran up to Lance, cheeks running as mucus run down his nose. Pidge sidestepped the big guy, trying not to find herself in the crash area. Hunk took hold of Lance and lifted him in the air with ease, shaking him frantically. “You're alive! Oh my god you're alive!”

“Actually I'm dead, but details, buddy, details.” Hunk put Lance down, looking to him quizzically.

“But you have a pulse?” Lance turned his head to Shiro, who looked to him. Keith looked up to Shiro, concern in his gaze. He pulled away from the hug, but their hands were still intertwined. 

“Shiro?” Keith asked. 

“They're 100 percent dead. Space Vampires to be precise.” Lance flinched. He kind of wanted to avoid the vampire topic, but Katie was as blunt as ever. 

“Do you need to add space in front of everything?” Shiro hushed to Katie, who nodded her head enthusiastically.

“You're kidding.” Hunk looked to Pidge dumbfounded.

“Fangs and all.” She gestured to them, who avoided eye contact. “They even drink blood.” Pidge pulled up the small baggies of Galra blood and jiggled them for effect. 

Allura sighed. Pidge was as blunt as ever.

“Are you alright?” Keith directed the question to Shiro. Shiro turned his gaze to Keith. “With all of this?” Shiro slowly nodded his head. “But they've taken so much from you…” Keith looked down to Shiro’s arm and Shiro unintentionally grasped it.

Look down to his arm, he gave a pained smile. He did lose his arm. He even lost his humanity, but… but did he? He turned his head back to Katie and Lance whom had their attention on Keith and him. “I might have lost a lot, but I also gained from this.” Both of their faces flushed as he gave them the kindest and warmest of smiles. Keith followed Shiro’s gaze, and had a small look of realization. 

Hunk looked between Pidge and Lance, and it was like a lightbulb of realization went up. He grinned a Cheshire grin and clasped his hands together. “Oooooooooooo!” He made a cooing noise. “They're dating! They're dating!” He exclaimed.

“Shiro’s out of my league! And Katie wouldn't date me in a million years!” Lance retaliated.

“Lance? Shiro? What universe?” Pidge spluttered at the same time as Lance.

“Who is this ‘Katie’?” Allura asked, ending all of the infighting immediately.

Lance realized he had made the gravest mistake of his life. He looked pale, as if his soul had left his body and he was nothing more than a husk of his former self, which was an incredible feat considering he was already dead.

Keith crossed his arms. “It's Pidge’s given name.” He informed Allura. She made an ‘o’ with her mouth in understanding. Keith smirked. “And Lance would only know that if he knew her beforehand. Which he didn't. Meaning she told him. And I doubt she would just normally tell them.” He gave them both a look, and Lance never felt more like the deadman he was. “Meaning he’s in fact dating her.” Keith looked back to Shiro. “Are you actually dating Lance?” Shiro nodded. Keith turned his face back to Lance, and it hardened to a glare. “You better treat him well.” 

Lance truly thought he was re experiencing his funeral. “Keith, it's okay.” He heard Shiro counter. “They're good, both of them.” Keith looked back to Shiro, staring intently into his eyes, trying to read them. He looked down, with a sigh. Shiro was being honest. Keith looked back to Lance. Yeah. He could see how Lance was Shiro’s type. The guy was _predictable as all hell_. Keith touched Shiro’s shoulder. 

“Alright.” There was a moment of silence, before he brought Shiro into a hug. “Welcome back.” He muttered into his shoulder once more. “You too, Lance. Welcome back.” Keith called out. 

“Welcome home!” Hunk called out dragging Lance and Pidge into a hug, before pulling in Allura and making his way to Keith, awkwardly squashing him in.

“Welcome back indeed!” Coran cheered. He gave a cry when he felt himself pulled into the group hug.

They were back. They were all back. Maybe not the same, maybe different, but they were back nonetheless.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;w; i hope you enjoyed this fic! Thank you all very much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to chat w/ me on tumblr @saltwaterdragon or on twitter @astrodragons


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